


Walpurgis Nights

by TakerFoxx



Category: Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magika | Puella Magi Madoka Magica
Genre: AU, Afterlife, F/F, Slice of Life, whole team is witches!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:34:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 95,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23570146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TakerFoxx/pseuds/TakerFoxx
Summary: As they lay with their broken bodies bleeding out and their soul gems slowly giving into corruption, they thought that it would be the end for them, that they were doomed to become monsters. What they didn't know was that there was a second chance waiting for them and all others like them: a second chance to live, a second chance to love, a second chance to heal.And all it would cost them was everything.
Relationships: Akemi Homura/Kaname Madoka, Charlotte/Tomoe Mami, Kriemhild Gretchen/Homulily, Miki Sayaka/Sakura Kyouko, Oktavia von Seckendorff/Ophelia the Wǔdàn Witch, candeloro/charlotte
Comments: 40
Kudos: 106





	1. A Painful Awakening, Part 1

A Painful Awakening, Part 1

_Now…_

In a small room that was professionally, yet comfortably, decorated, a woman met with two young girls.

This was to be expected, of course. The woman was, after all, a trained therapist, someone whose job was helping children work their way through trauma and come to grips with what had been done to them. It was a difficult job, one that often required her to hear things that no one would ever want to hear and regularly deal with young girls experiencing things that anyone with an ounce of empathy would be horrified to see young girls going through, such as emotional breakdowns, panic attacks, and even violent anger.

But all that aside, someone unused to the very specific circumstances that had brought the three of them together would immediately notice a few things amiss. For one, despite being a trained and experienced professional in her field with years of schooling and even more years of practice, the woman did not seem any older than the two young girls. At a look, one could be forgive for thinking her to be roughly around sixteen years of age, with short brown hair and an elfin face. However, she was much, much older than that.

That being said, even if someone did know that, her lack of physical aging would not be the first thing anyone would notice about her. Instead, their attention would be first drawn to her eyes, which resembled the rounded glass bulbs of a motorcycle’s headlight. They then might notice her teeth and maybe even her fingernails, all of which were of a natural metallic chrome.

In contrast, the two young girls that were her patients that day actually were in their very early teens. They were both Japanese, one whose nervous eyes and shoulder-length hair were of a dark pink, while the other, who looked to be one harsh word away from bursting into tear, had dark violet eyes and long, raven hair that flowed nearly all the way down her back.

But like the counselor, the two of them looked like monsters. The pink one’s eyes glowed with a faint luminescence, and she had no legs, possessing instead twelve whiplike wires that extended from her hips onto the floor, where they writhed and twisted in agitation. As for her friend, she had legs, yes, but she was also in possession of a bright red spider lily growing out of the top of her head, its roots digging down through her hair and into her skulls. Furthermore, though her arms, hands, and fingers worked perfectly well, moving, feeling, and grasping as they ought to be, they were missing several important components, specifically their skin, muscles, nerves, sinews, and blood vessels. They were completely skeletal, all bare bones, held together by some unseen power, and yet they moved as if they were still covered by flesh and skin.

They sat side-by-side on the couch across from the therapist, holding tightly to each other’s hands, as they struggled to vocalize exactly what had happened to them.

“I…” the pink-haired girl began before falling silent.

“It was…” said the one with raven hair, and then the words died on her lips.

The therapist nodded in understanding. There were a few things that connected the girls she spoke to, and one of them was that their experiences were as bizarre as they were horrific, and they often had trouble putting it to words. “Which one of you woke up first?” she asked.

“I did,” the pink-haired one replied. “Woke up. Um, I woke up first.”

“Are you comfortable talking about it?”

The pink-haired girl shuddered, but she nodded. “Yes,” she said. “It was _awful.”_

…

_Homura, I’m scared!_

Waking up seemed like it would be cold, wet, and painful, so she resisted it, mentally clinging to the dark that was just so warm and inviting.

_…mura, I’m scared!_

It wasn’t easy though. Now that the pain had been registered, it grasped at the ragged edges of her consciousness and, once it had a decent grip, began tugging. Once it had pulled enough out of the dark, the cold and wetness joined in, all of them working together to haul her closer and closer to wakefulness.

_…I’m scared!_

Her eyelids twitched. Her fingers flexed. Remaining unconscious was becoming more and more difficult. For one, something seemed to be wrapped around her arms, something sharp and metal that dug into her skin. For another, she didn’t seem to be wearing any clothes, and as noted, it was very cold out.

_…m scared!_

And finally, wherever she was, it seemed to be outside, and it was raining. Raindrops pelted her exposed skin like tiny, freezing hammers. Meanwhile, she was starting to become aware of other problems, such as the deep, rhythmic beating of what sounded like a massive clock, ticking away the second right behind her. Something was pressing against the flesh of her neck, digging in and making breathing difficult. Furthermore, her legs were stretched out in all directions, and were subjected to the same digging pain as her hands and wrists.

Also, she seemed to have way too many.

_…scared…_

Wake up. She couldn’t afford to sleep any longer. She was in danger.

_…scared…_

But she didn’t want to. Wakefulness was scary and painful. At least being asleep would shield her from the pain, would protect her from the cold. She didn’t want to wake up, she didn’t want to…

_…scared…_

…didn’t want to…

_…scared…_

…didn’t want…

_…scared…_

…didn’t…couldn’t…

_WAKE UP!_

The freezing girl’s eyes snapped open, and she immediately regretted it. She was what had to be dozens, if not hundreds of meters up, tied to the front of a building during a massive storm, with a bizarre, twisting city stretching out below her.

She tried to scream, but the thing pressing against her throat choked her off.

…

_Now…_

“I was _terrified!”_ the pink-haired girl wept. “I was up there, and it was so cold and it was raining and everything just hurt so much…”

She broke down weeping. Her companion was quick to comfort her, drawing her into her skeletal arms.

As for Dr. Cynthia, she silently picked up one of the plastic cups of water that had been set out on the table between them and offered it to the weeping child. Her patient took it gratefully and gulped it down.

“I’m sorry,” Dr. Cynthia said softly as the pink-haired girl started to calm. “I know it must have been terrible. It was almost as bad when it happened to me.”

“What was yours like?” the dark-haired girl asked, seeming more curious than horrified.

Dr. Cynthia took a deep breath. It was actually a story she had told and retold endless times in her job, and though she had come to terms with the memory, it still was difficult to revisit. “I was being held suspended in an auto shop,” she said. “I woke up, and I was hanging from the ceiling with two thick chains wrapped around my arms, and beneath me were several large tires attached to some kind of machine that just kept them going and going and going. Before I had any idea what was going on, the chains started lowering me toward the wheels, to either have my skin seared off or to be crushed between them. Had there not already been a rescue party nearby, I would have been.”

“Is it the same for everyone like us?” the pink-haired girl asked, her voice still thick with tears. “For w-witches?”

“It is, unfortunately.”

“What about the ones that don’t become witches?” the raven-haired girl said. “Are they tortured too? When they wake up?”

“No,” Dr. Cynthia admitted. “Their surroundings are often strange and frightening, but not painful.”

The distraught girl blinked away tears. “That’s not fair,” she whispered. “That’s not fair at all!”

“It’s not,” Dr. Cynthia agreed.

“We…We get turned into monsters, we get killed, we get _tortured,_ we don’t get to keep our memories or our real names, we have to stay monsters forever, while everyone else that _didn’t_ get turned into a witch gets to stay human! They don’t wake up in terrible pain, they don’t have to walk around with this big hole inside them, they don’t have to live as…” She held up one skeletal arm, displaying the bare bones for all to see.

Dr. Cynthia nodded. “You’re right. They don’t. And it’s not fair at all. But you know what? As terrible as that first day is, as hard as it is to have no idea who you were or what happened to you, and as frightening as it was to look into the mirror, I’m honestly glad that I became a witch.”

At this, the pink-haired girl looked up from her companion’s shoulder to blink owlishly at Dr. Cynthia. “Why?”

“Because as bad as that first day might be, for us it is the worst that it’s ever going to get,” Dr. Cynthia said in a frank tone. “For girls that don’t become witches, that remain Puella Magi, their first days aren’t as horrible, but they walk around always remembering the world that they left behind, the families and friends that they are never going to see again, as well as why and how they died. On the whole, we witches have a much better time adjusting to our new lives here.”

“It’s still awful though.”

“Yes. It is.” Dr. Cynthia sighed. “Are you all right? Would you like to stop for today?”

“No,” the pink-haired girl said firmly. “I want to do this. I want to get this out.”

“All right. Take your time, then. What happened next?”

…

_Then…_

In a very short period of time, the freezing girl came to learn several facts about her perilous situation, none of which made her happy.

In addition to her being naked and tied to the face of a gigantic clock tower high in the air in the middle of a rainstorm, she also didn’t seem to be human, or at least something different from most humans. Most of her body seemed to have the standard equipment, all save for her legs. For one, she did not have the usual set of thighs, knees, calves, shins, feet, etc. Instead, she had thin whiplike wires, like the kind used to support a billowing skirt.

Also, she had twelve of them.

The freezing girl was pressed against the exact center of the clock’s face, with each one of her legs stretched out toward one of the hours. They did not reach all the way of course, so they had their lengths increased by being wound around wires attached to the perimeter of the clock.

Barbed wire.

More barbed wire stretched her arms out to either side. Her legs hurt, certainly, but her arms were the worst of it, as they were of pink flesh, with the barbed wire wrapped around her forearms up to the elbow, the points digging into her skin. What was more, there seemed to be yet another wire, thankfully not barbed, pressed against her throat, making even breathing difficult.

She had tried yanking on them, but that just brought tears to her eyes. She had tried screaming for help, but there was no one to hear her cries. She was alone.

Thrashing did no good. In fact, that just made things so much worse, as she quickly found out. Hanging limp was also an agony. It was a nightmare paradox. Nothing she did gave her the slightest relief from the torture she found herself trapped in.

She panicked. Even though it sent burning lances of pain through her body, she again began pulling at her restraints, screaming the whole time. Something had to give, something had to happen, something had to-

Something did.

With a snap, one of her legs came loose and was free. The freezing girl frozen in place. Then, with almost fearful hesitation, she brought her leg up.

Though it was not of flesh of bone, it obeyed anyway, curling up like a snake. She twisted it around and was equally fascinated and horrified by how easy it was. No human limb ought to move like that.

Well, she could figure that out later. For now, she was in kind of a pressing situation.

Now that she had a tool to work with, she set to work freeing her neck. Fortunately that wire was just pressed up against her throat instead of being wrapped around it, so all she had to do was seize it with her leg and push out. Surprisingly, whatever was holding it in place was very flexible, and she was able to slip her head under, freeing her neck.

Next came her arms. In another stroke of luck, the barbed wire was just wound around them and not tied, so all she had to was find the end and unwind it.

All she had to do. Ha. Like it was that simple, with the barbs still gouged into her skin and the mind-rending agony every movement brought.

Every loop unwound made her want to die. Heck, she probably ought to have died by now, but if death had no come to claim her yet, then she wasn’t going to let it come for her now. So she let herself cry and gasp and scream, but she kept on unwinding.

Then one arm was free. Her eyes squeezed shut, she immediately cradled it against her chest, afraid to look at the mangled mess it must be. Keeping them closed, she then reached up with her free leg to get to work freeing the other.

Again there was pain, but as horrible as it sounded, she was started to get used to it. She gritted her teeth and kept at her task. Another loop, and then another, and then another, and then another…

Suddenly, her other arm was free, and the worst of the pain was starting to ebb away!

Unfortunately she wasn’t given time to celebrate, as her horrible mistake suddenly became clear.

Though her legs kept her pressed to the face of the clock, it had been her arms keeping her upright. And with them no longer bound, she found her upper body pitching forward. Arms flailing, she screamed.

A moment later the pitching stopped, and she found herself pretty much upside-down, staring at the white of the clock face itself.

The freezing girl shut her eyes.

How long she hung there too scared to move, she had no way of telling, which was kind of ironic considering that she was strapped to a giant clock. However, she couldn’t remain like that forever.

She blinked. Then her eyes reflexively went up, or rather, down.

This proved to be a mistake, and she quickly closed her eyes again.

Keeping them closed, she extended her trembling arms until they touched something hard, cold, and wet. She pushed with her arms and her core, mostly expecting herself to not have the strength to move back upward.

But she did.

The freezing girl would have been surprised had the last hour or so not been packed with one surprise after another. Regardless, she was soon upright again, arms behind her back holding onto the clock hand for dear life.

Though she was still subjected to pain in the ends of her legs and the freezing cold from the elements, at the very least the bulk of the agony was gone as she had some space to think. She wracked her brain, trying to seize upon anything of worth, anything to explain where she was, why she was there, or even who is was to begin with.

To her rising dread, she came up with nothing.

Oh, there were bits of information, flashes of memory, but they didn’t seem to be connected to anything. She was able to pull up general knowledge about…society, pop culture, school subjects, and more of the same nature, but her personal life was a muddled blur. She saw fleeting glimpses of faces, rain coming down on a ruined city, a red-eyed cat…thing, a shattering pink gem, but no context to give them meaning.

Her panic started to return. What about her name? Surely she had a name at least. She dug into the scattered mess of her memory, trying to bring it up.

To her surprise, that was the one question that had a definitive answer. Her name was…

…

_Now…_

“Kriemhild Gretchen,” the pink-haired girl said. She frowned. “How did I know that though? I couldn’t remember anything, but I knew that. I knew my name.”

“It’s our witch name,” Dr. Cynthia said. “We’re given those when we become witches, and they just sort of remain embedded in our minds.”

Kriemhild Gretchen wrinkled her nose. “So you used to have a different name?”

“Presumably, yes.”

“Doesn’t that bother you? Knowing that you’ll never, ever know your real name?”

Dr. Cynthia shrugged. “I did at first. I was curious, as everyone usually is. But honestly, I’ve spent so much time as Cynthia that I barely even think about it anymore.”

“It’s still not fair,” the raven-haired girl insisted.

“You’re absolutely right. It’s not.” Dr. Cynthia looked to Kriemhild Gretchen. “Do you think you can continue?”

Kriemhild Gretchen shuddered, but then nodded. “Yes. Um, well, I was…st-stuck up there, so I just kept trying to free myself.”

…

_Then…_

The last stringy leg came loose from the strand of barbed wire it had been twisted around, and the horrible thing fell loose. Gasping, Kriemhild Gretchen curled it up close to the rest of her body as the throbbing pain finally started to recede.

Kriemhild still had no answers. She didn’t know where she was. She didn’t know why she was tied naked in such a torturous position and exposed to the elements. Heck, she didn’t even know her own name. And above all, she didn’t know what she even was, why her legs were such a bizarre nest of wiry…things. Was she even human?

Still, as she clung to the hour hand of the massive clock face with all her legs wrapped around its base, she was grateful that she had been mutated in such a way. At least it meant that she had a way to keep herself from falling. She tried to look out at whatever it was that lay below her, but it was weird, twisted, made no sense at all, and seemed to be moving, so she stopped.

Kriemhild couldn’t decide if she was more terrified or confused. Nothing about any of this made any sense. It had to be some kind of demented nightmare. If she tried hard enough, she could almost make herself believe that, believe that she was safe in her own bed somewhere, and in a few moments she would wake with a start, wondering what she had ate to give her such a vivid dream.

Except that the bitter cold was too real to be a dream. As had been the pain.

“Help!” she screamed out as loud as she could. “Please, help me!” Her words were swallowed up by the wind.

The height was starting to make her nauseous, so she turned away and closed her eyes. Tears were prickling at her eyes. Why was this happening to her? What had she done to deserve something like this?

Then she so happened to blink her eyes and look up. She gasped.

There was someone else there, someone tied to the top of the same clock hand she was clinging to. Kriemhild gaped, then her face hardened with resolution.

Fully maneuvering herself around so that she was fully facing the clock hand was a terrifying experience, and she had to talk herself through switching the position of each individual leg. But she got it. Then she began to climb.

She was already far, far too high up, and making herself go even higher took every ounce of willpower. Every centimeter of height gained felt like a battle, and there was precious little for her legs to hold onto. The cold metal of the hour hand was agony against her bare skin, and its length seemed impossibly long.

Don’t look down, she told herself. Don’t look down, don’t look down, don’t look down…

The higher she got, the clearer the other person became. It seemed to be another naked girl, also strapped in place by barbed wire. Well, that was enough reason to try to free her. Kriemhild gritted her teeth and pressed onward and upward.

The climb seemed to take forever, though in truth it was less than a minute, but finally she was passing over the girl’s body. The girl was pale of skin and completely unconscious, just as Kriemhild had been. Her long raven hair blew freely in the wind. On top of her head was a scarlet flower bud. Some kind of weird metal disc covered where her wrists were bound to the clock hand over her head, like some sort of lock.

Also, her arms and shoulders were nothing more than bare bones, completely free of flesh.

For a moment Kriemhild thought that she had come so far just to reach a corpse, but then the other girl moved. It was a slight reflex, just a simple shifting of her weight, but her eyelids fluttered and she let out a small moan.

Kriemhild blinked. Wait, what?

She lifted a finger, hesitated, and then reached up and poked the bones of the other girl’s upper arm. It reflexively moved away from her touch, just like a living arm.

Another monster then, like her. For some reason she was almost cheered by the thought.

She then studied the other girl’s face. There was something achingly familiar about her, something important. A name was clawing its way up through her swirling memory, something so close and dear, and yet she couldn’t seem to grasp it.

“Hom…” she whispered, and then it was gone, dissipating like a dream.

Then the other girl stirred again. She groaned, louder this time.

Encouraged by this, Kriemhild gently shook her shoulder.

“Hey,” she said. “Wake up.”

“Uh…”

“Wake up!” Kriemhild’s shaking grow more urgent. “Please, you have to wake up!”

The other girl blinked her eyes. Kriemhild breathed a sigh of relief.

“You’re awake!” Then she glanced up to where the other girl’s arms were still bound. “Just…Just hang on! I’ll get you off!”

The other girl blinked in confusion. She looked down, and her eyes widened.

“What?” she said with a small gasp. “Where?”

But before Kriemhild could answer, the other girl then looked up.

And she screamed.

Kriemhild winced at the shrill sound. “Calm down, calm down!” she said, though she herself felt anything but calm. “I know it’s scary, but I need you to hold still while I get you loose!”

The other girl gaped at her. “What…who…what am…where are…who are you?”

“Me? Oh, I’m Kriemhild. Kriemhild Gretchen. Do you have a name?”

The other girl stared at her. “A name? A name? I don’t…I don’t remember anything! How can I-”

Then she blinked. “Wait. Wait, wait, wait. I think I do. My name is…”

…

_Now…_

“Homulilly.” The raven-haired girl frowned. “What does that even mean? Homulilly? Is that even a real name?”

“It is now,” Dr. Cynthia said. “And I think it’s a very lovely one.”

“Homulilly,” repeated the girl to whom that name belonged to. “I dunno. It just sounds…weird. And I don’t even get a last name!”

“Well, I like it!” Kriemhild Gretchen said, giving Homulilly’s bony fingers a squeeze. “Better than my name at least. Kriemhild.” She sighed. “I don’t even look like a Kriemhild!”

Dr. Cynthia cleared her throat. “Then why not go by your second name? Gretchen’s a very lovely name too.”

“Can I?”

“Of course! They’re your names; you can do whatever you want with them.”

Gretchen glanced over to her companion. “Um, would you be okay with that? Just calling me Gretchen, I mean.”

“I’ll call you whatever you like!” Homulilly was quick to say. She smiled. “Gretchen.”

“Gretchen,” said the name’s owner to herself, musing over the sound of the syllables. “Homulilly and Gretchen. A couple of weirdoes with a couple of weird names.”

“Well, I think they sound quite nice together,” Dr. Cynthia said. “You two make a good fit.”

Even though their eyes still glimmered with tears, the two scared, malformed girls beamed at the compliment, and Dr. Cynthia did so as well. She had an eye for how the girls that came to her for help would turn out, and she could already see that though these two would definitely have their share of challenges ahead of them, they would be all right.

But then, that was often the case with Walpurgisnachts.


	2. A Painful Awakening, Part 2

A Painful Awakening, Part 2

_Then…_

Have you ever been a naked, amnesiac monster girl who, after just freeing yourself from a horribly torturous situation, now found yourself trying to free a second naked, amnesiac monster girl from a similarly torturous situation, all taking place on the face of a gigantic clock tower hundreds of meters up in the pouring rain?

If the answer is yes, then please, seek help.

If the answer is no, then you should know that it can be a very harrowing situation.

Kriemhild Gretchen was clinging to the clock hand with most of her legs, praying that they wouldn’t slip, while she used her arms to hold onto Homulilly to keep her from slipping once her arms were free, though she had to be careful not to get too close, lest she tear herself open with the barbed wire still around the other girl’s stomach. Meanwhile, she used four of her legs to try to remove the weird shield that was tied to Homulilly’s wrists.

“Okay, I think it got it,” Kriemhild Gretchen said. Her mouth was very close to Homulilly’s ear, so she kept her voice low. “Almost done…almost done…”

“Kriemhild…” Homulilly whimpered.

“Shhh. Just keep your eyes closed and let me know if it hurts too much. Almost got it…and done!”

The shield came loose, and Kriemhild Gretchen let it fall.

“Okay, now I’m going to work on freeing your arms, okay?”

“Okay,” Homulilly whispered.

Working Homulilly’s arms was…weird, and not just because of the aforementioned reasons. Her bones looked dead, but they moved like they were alive. They twitched and flexed in response to Kriemhild Gretchen’s every move, so clearly they still had feeling.

Kriemhild Gretchen fished around with the tips of her legs until she found where the barbed wire was twisted together. From there she set to work pulling it apart so she could start unwinding.

“Where are we?” Homulilly said as she worked. “Why are we here?”

Kriemhild Gretchen sighed. “Don’t know,” she admitted. “I’m in the same boat you are. I just got done getting myself out of something similar when I found you.”

“Why are we monsters?”

Another good question. “Again, I don’t know. Maybe we’re, uh, science experiments or something.”

“Is this some kind of a nightmare?”

“I wish. Hurts too bad not to be real.”

“Yeah, it-” Suddenly her arms jerked. “Ah!”

Kriemhild Gretchen winced. “Sorry, but it’s going to hurt. The barbs have to come out, okay?”

A moment passed, and then Homulilly gave a brief nod. “Do it,” she whispered.

Moving as gently as she could, Kriemhild Gretchen unraveled the barbed wire from around Homulilly’s arms. While Kriemhild Gretchen still had no idea what she was, she was starting to become grateful for it. Having so many limbs was proving to be a huge help.

As for Homulilly, she winced and whimpered, but she managed to keep still until Kriemhild Gretchen finally got the last of the barbed wire off. As soon as she was able, she jerked her arms down and held them close to her chest.

“See?” Kriemhild Gretchen said, trying to sound as encouraging as she could despite the fact that her voice would not stop shaking. “You’re okay!”

Homulilly looked anything but okay. She stared down at the shaking bones she was holding against herself, a look of absolutely horror on her face. “W-What is this?” she said, running her skeletal right hand across the long, white bones of left arm. “What am I?”

Kriemhild Gretchen wished she had something comforting to say, but nothing was coming to mind. “J-Just hold on to me,” she said. “I’m going to try to get the rest off.”

Homulilly reached out to do just that, but then she hesitated.

“It’s okay,” Kriemhild Gretchen said. “I won’t mind.”

The look Homulilly gave her made it clear that she doubted that very much, but she slowly wrapped her skeletal arms around Kriemhild Gretchen’s shoulders.

Despite her promise, Kriemhild Gretchen had to keep from wincing as she felt the bones touch her bare skin. Somehow she managed to resist the impulse though. “Okay, just stay as still as you can,” she said. Then she set to work.

Unwrapping Homulilly’s torso turned out to be a much stickier endeavor than the arms had been. She had to keep herself hovering a fair distance away to keep from getting stuck by the barbed wire as well while maintaining her hold on the other girl’s shoulders. Both of their bodies were shaking from cold and fear, and Homulilly kept twitching every time a particularly nasty barb was removed.

The other girl’s eyes were clamped shut, which was a good thing, as she wasn’t able to see an especially weird thing starting to happen. Well, a new type of weird, anyway. Every time Kriemhild Gretchen managed to extract a barb, a small sliver of violet smoke would rise up out of the hole, only to stop.

Kriemhild Gretchen paused, and lowered her head to get a closer look. The holes were all closing up seconds after the barbs were removed. What was more, there didn’t seem to be any blood.

“You st-st-stopped,” Homulilly said, her eyes still closed and teeth chattering. “Wh-What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Kriemhild Gretchen said hastily. She went back to work.

She was now very thankful for her bizarre anatomy, as what she was trying to do wouldn’t have been possible otherwise. Still, it was nasty going. A couple of times a strand got too close to her own stomach to slice across the skin. It was never deep, but it hurt.

Still, she kept at it, loop by loop, barb by barb. Homulilly was starting to come free, so she spared a couple more legs to help tie her in place.

Finally the last of the loops was removed, and the finally coil of barbed wire was sent tumbling below. “There!” Kriemhild Gretchen said. “You’re free!”

“Oh God,” Homulilly whispered. With the barbed wire no longer in the way, the two were now pressing themselves tightly against one another, partially to keep each other from falling, partially because they were the only source of warmth that they had, but mostly because they both were starving for comfort. “Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

Despite the fact that they were still stuck cold, wet, and naked in a ludicrously perilous situation, Kriemhild Gretchen found herself smiling. There was something…familiar about holding Homulilly close, something familiar and comforting. Though she still had no idea what it might be, it was clear to her that they shared some kind of past history. “It’s fine,” she said. “Don’t worry, we’ll get-”

Then, as if for no other reason than to make her out to be a liar, the world itself rose up to strike them down. Literally.

The clock hand that they were clinging to suddenly moved. That would have been jarring enough, but the whole building moved as well. It was as if the ground upon which it stood jerked suddenly to one side, moving the entire structure a couple meters to the side. At the same time, a deep and thunderous bell sounded from what sounded like right next to her head.

 _Gong_.

It wasn’t much, but Kriemhild Gretchen had not been expecting it, and the shock caused all of her limbs to suddenly lose their grip.

And then, before she had any idea what was happening, she was falling.

…

_Now…_

“That must have been terrifying,” Dr. Cynthia said softly.

“I…I thought I was going to die,” Gretchen said, her shoulders trembling, her eyes staring down at the carpet. “I thought, well, this is it. I’m going to die in this nightmare, I’m never going to find out who I am and why I was there, it’s all over for me.” She looked up at Dr. Cynthia. “Except…it wouldn’t have been the end, would it?”

“No,” Dr. Cynthia said. “That end has already come and gone.”

“What…” Homulilly hesitated, then continued her question. “What would have happened? If she had fallen all the way, I mean?”

“She would have blacked out for a bit, and then woken up again at the bottom,” Dr. Cynthia said. “Her body would have fixed itself, and it would be like she had never gotten hurt at all.”

“Oh. So…we can’t die? At all?”

“It’s a little more complicated than that,” Dr. Cynthia said. “This…afterlife isn’t like Heaven or Hell or anything from mythology. It wasn’t made from some divine being for us. It was made _by_ us, built in part from our memories. That’s why so much of it seems like how it was back in the world of the living.” She held up her arm and ran her chrome-tipped fingers down its length. “Our bodies are literally our souls _remembering_ what we looked like and how it felt to be, well, us. So we feel alive. We still eat, sleep, drink, and breathe. We still feel like there is blood in our veins, still feel itchy, still feel hungry, still feel sleepy, still feel sore, and so on.” She let her arms drop. “But since we’re aren’t, you know, made of meat anymore, when we get injured, it still hurts, yes, but it doesn’t…stick. No matter how bad the injury, our bodies start fixing it, returning it to how it used to be. You can lose an entire arm, and have a new one in less than thirty minutes.”

“Wow,” Gretchen whispered. “Um, what about haircuts though?”

“Oh, you can still do that,” Dr. Cynthia told her. “Like I said, it’s all based on what we’re used to, and we got our hair cut all the time and had it grow back at a normal rate.”

“Okay, but what about _dying?”_ Homulilly pressed. “Like, what if I had my head chopped off.”

“Homulilly-chan!” Gretchen said. “Don’t think about such things!”

“But…I just want to…”

“It’s okay,” Dr. Cynthia assured her. “It’s perfectly normal to be curious. And when something like _that_ happens, your body just…shuts down for a bit as it repairs itself. You still come back as good as new.”

“Huh,” Homulilly mused.

Gretchen just shook her head. “Well, I’m glad that it didn’t happen to me,” she said. “I don’t want to die. I don’t care if it wouldn’t stick, I don’t want to die, not again.”

“A very healthy attitude to have,” Dr. Cynthia said. “And it didn’t happen then because of Homulilly, right?”

Gretchen nodded. “Yes. Because of Homulilly.”

…

_Then…_

Kriemhild Gretchen screamed as she dropped headfirst, her arms and legs flailing, rain slamming against her face.

She saw the black monolith of the clock hand zoom past her…only to suddenly stop. Gasping like a hooked fish, Kriemhild Gretchen found herself swinging from side to side, but no longer falling.

She blinked, her mind still paralyzed by terror. The swinging slowed, and then stopped, leaving her hanging upside-down. Part of her was mildly aware of the fact that despite being turned around a full one-hundred eighty degrees, rain was still somehow hitting the top of her head.

Then, though the very thought of it filled her with terror, she spared a glance down…or, well, upward.

Above her, Homulilly had somehow managed to wrap her own limbs around the clock hand. That alone should not have been enough to keep her from falling, but somehow it was. Furthermore, she now holding onto the ends of several of Kriemhild Gretchen’s legs in her fist.

Also, for whatever reason, the rain had reversed direction and was now falling upward. In any other circumstance that would be great cause for concern, but given everything that had happened in the last few minutes, it barely got a passing notice of curiosity.

“H-Hold on!” Homulilly called down to her. “I got you!”

Kriemhild Gretchen found her voice then. “Don’t drop me!” she begged. “Please don’t drop me!”

Homulilly nodded. Then she began to pull.

Slowly but surely, at what felt like a centimeter at a time, Kriemhild Gretchen was hauled back up. She tried to close her eyes, but for whatever reason that just made things worse. She tried to focus on the clock face itself, but the way she was being held kept turning her back outward, toward the bizarre city, which was so much worse.

So she focused on Homulilly, as her new friend hauled her back up.

“C-Come on,” Homulilly said. “Get your, um, your…legs back around the clock hand.”

Kriemhild Gretchen nodded and did so, this time making sure to tighten her grip.

“Now take my hand,” Homulilly said, reaching out.

The bones of Homulilly’s fingers still felt strange, but Kriemhild Gretchen was in no position to complain.

“Now sit up!”

Homulilly pulled and Kriemhild Gretchen pushed up with her abdomen, and she managed to move back so she was right-side-up again and facing Homulilly directly.

Kriemhild Gretchen tried to talk, to thank Homulilly for saving her life, but she couldn’t. The ability to speak seemed to have left her.

Fortunately, Homulilly seemed to understand. “Come on,” she said. “W-We need to g-get out of here.”

Kriemhild Gretchen nodded. Then she glanced around and winced.

“Up,” Homulilly said. “We need to go up.”

Kriemhild Gretchen looked up and understood. The hand they were clinging to was a long one, reaching nearly to the top of the clock itself, and jutting out over the clock face was a line of gargoyles, all of them looking like young girls reaching out for the horizon.

If they managed to reach those gargoyles, they might just might be able to pull themselves onto the roof. And if they got to the roof, they might be able to find a way safely down, maybe even get help.

If.

Regardless, one thing Kriemhild Gretchen was certain of was that they could not stay where they were, clinging to a giant clock hand in backwards falling rain.

The two of them looked at each other in understanding. Then, in synchronization, they both nodded, and they started to climb.

Inch-by-inch, bit by bit, all the way up, all the while praying that neither of them would slip, that the hand wouldn’t move again, that they would somehow be able to wake up from this nightmare.

…

_Now…_

“She saved me,” Gretchen said softly. “Lilly-chan saved me.”

Homulilly blushed deep red. “I just reacted,” she said. “Anyone would have.”

“But you still caught me. You still helped me get back up. You kept me going. If you hadn’t, then I would have-” Gretchen’s voice caught a little. “Well. Maybe I wouldn’t have died, but…”

“You did most of it,” Homulilly protested. “You freed yourself all on your own, and then you freed me. I just grabbed you.”

Dr. Cynthia cleared her throat. “I think the two of you worked well together. A team, wouldn’t you say?”

Gretchen beamed at that. “A team. I like that.” Her hand gave Homulilly’s bony fingers a tight squeeze.

Despite the trials they had to endure, Dr. Cynthia was secretly glad that they both had been witches. When two or more girls “arrived” together, the dynamic often changed based on what they were. Two magical girls could go any number of ways, if they had been partners in life, friends, rivals, or strangers. A magical girl and a witch often had some kind of tension between them. Their first meetings tended to not go well, even if they often did end up working together.

But two witches, especially two that had been joined together like these two obviously had been, often bonded immediately, as if they sensed the spiritual kinship that existed between them. It wasn’t terribly common, but when it did happen, they tended to stick together for a long time afterward, remaining each other’s companions from there on out. It made adjusting easier.

“It must have helped,” Dr. Cynthia remarked. “Having each other, despite how scary things were.”

“It did,” Gretchen said. “Though, uh, it was still…pretty scary. And confusing. Nothing made sense _at all!”_

…

_Then…_

“Almost…there!” Kriemhild Gretchen grunted. She had almost reached the roof of the clock tower. The going had actually been a lot easier than she had expected, despite their precarious situation, the lack of anything safe to hold onto, and the fact that she had Homulilly riding on her back, her bony arms wrapped loosely around her shoulders and her legs around her middle.

But while the fear, cold, pain, slick surface, and rain made their ascension downright torturous, the one that that wasn’t as much an obstacle as she had expected was their shared weight. Homulilly seemed to weigh barely anything at all, and her limbs were having little trouble actually lifting them.

Which wasn’t to say that having Homulilly on her back wasn’t distracting in… _other_ ways. Still, if she had to be a monster, at least she was a strong monster.

Just over the clock face were a series of gargoyles that stuck out in a line along the roof’s edge. Kriemhild Gretchen made sure that she had a good grip on the clock hand, took a deep breath, and then let go with two wiry legs and reached them up to wrap around the closest gargoyle’s middle.

As she did, she got a good look at what the statue actually depicted.

It was of Homulilly, or at least a girl that looked quite a lot like her. Except this Homulilly wasn’t naked, but instead worse a sleek uniform that was militaristic, yet still feminine. Her long, raven hair was tied into two pigtails, and she was wearing stone glasses. There was no flower on her head, and though her arms were covered by sleeves, Kriemhild Gretchen was pretty sure that they weren’t skeletal. She was reaching out with one arm, as if she were trying to grasp the horizon, and attached to that arm was some kind of disc.

Huh.

“You st-st-stopped,” Homulilly said, her teeth chattering. “Wh-Why’d you stop?”

“Sorry,” Kriemhild Gretchen said. She wrapped her legs tightly around the odd Homulilly statue, and when she was sure that it would hold her weight, she added two more.

Slowly but surely she moved her wiry legs up from the clock hand to the statue, until there were only two left, plus her arms. “Okay,” she said to Homulilly. “I’m going to let go of the clock! Are you ready?”

Homulilly whimpered, but Kriemhild Gretchen felt her nod.

“All right,” she said. “One, two-”

And then everything moved.

That deep bell rang again, and the clock hand suddenly moved to the right, nearly causing Kriemhild Gretchen to lose her grip completely from fright. Even worse, the entire tower once again moved, shifting its placement several meters to the side, as if the whole thing were on a giant clock on the ground, and the rain started to fall downward once more.

Kriemhild Gretchen gasped in surprise. Several of her legs lost their grip, and she felt herself start to slip. She hastily seized onto the Homulilly statue harder to prevent them from falling.

But then she felt Homulilly start to slide off her back.

“Help!” Homulilly cried. Her skeletal fingers tried to hold on, but they only slipped down Kriemhild Gretchen’s rain-slicked back.

Kriemhild Gretchen spun around and seized her wrist with both hands.

For a terrifyingly long moment, they just hung there, Homulilly dangling over emptiness, Kriemhild Gretchen holding onto her for dear life, supported only by her legs, wrapped around a statue that stretched out over her head.

Then Kriemhild Gretchen swallowed. “H-Hold on!” she said. “I got you!”

Homulilly closed her eyes.

Kriemhild Gretchen slowly pulled Homulilly back up. Again she was amazed by just how easy it was, by how light Homulilly felt. She brought her back up until Homulilly was able to grab back onto her shoulders and cinch in with her legs.

“Are you all right?” Kriemhild Gretchen whispered.

“No,” Homulilly sniffed. “B-But thanks.”

At least now they were no longer clinging to the clock hand. Kriemhild Gretchen slowly lifted them both up, forcing herself to look only upward at the roof, resisting the impulse to glance down at the very messy fate that awaited them if she slipped.

She managed it, and as she rose up, she noticed something else.

The gargoyles weren’t all of Homulilly. On either side of the one she was holding onto were identical statues of a different girl, this one with shorter hair tied by ribbons into a pair of twintails, one who wore a frilly dress and was drawing back on the string of a bow that looked like it had been carved from a living rosebush, pointing her arrow toward the horizon.

Was that _her?_ Did she look like that? Or rather, had she?

Kriemhild Gretchen spared a glance to either side. All of the gargoyles were the same, either being of the bespectacled Homulilly or the archer form of what was presumably herself.

_Why?_

Saving that question for later, Kriemhild Gretchen brought them up between the gargoyles to the clock tower roof. She pushed them and gave a short push, practically throwing them both onto the roof, well away from the edge.

For a time they just lay there, side by side, staring up at the sky, just letting themselves breathe. They had made it.

For now.

“Are we okay?” Homulilly said at last.

“I…I think so,” Kriemhild Gretchen said.

“Um, Kr-Kriemhild-chan?”

“What?”

“What are we?”

Not where. What. she wanted to know _what._

And Kriemhild Gretchen wanted to know the same thing.

“I wish I knew, Homulilly-chan,” she said as she continued to stare upward. “I wish I knew.”


	3. A Painful Awakening, Part 3

A Painful Awakening, Part 3

_Now…_

Dr. Cynthia and Homulilly sat patiently across from one another, Homulilly with her head and shoulders bowed, eyes fixed squarely on the small table that lay between them, her arms tightly hugging her stomach.

She was scared; Dr. Cynthia could tell that immediately. Not of where she was or what might happen to her; that all was in the past. But she was scared of herself, of what she had become. It was a common problem with young witches. Witch remnants tended to be a little on the random side, and one could never really predict what you were going to wake up with. Sometimes it wasn’t immediately evident, sometimes it was something subtle and easily hidden, and sometimes it was obvious but still aesthetically pleasing. Dr. Cynthia had met girls who had come over resembling mythical creatures, bearing things like fairy wings or graceful horns or tails. Quite a few had even benefitted from their transformations, gaining abilities normal humans wouldn’t have.

But others weren’t so fortunate. A few had changed in ways that would be considered hideous or terrifying. Dr. Cynthia had likewise met some with entire halves of their faces covered with eyes, in possession of hairy and malformed limbs, or serpents for hair. Dr. Cynthia herself had alterations that went beyond just her eyes and nails. Beneath the grey pantsuit she was wearing, parts of her body were made from plastic and steel.

Homulilly seemed to split the difference. The bright red flower growing out of the top of her head was quite striking, and had she only come over with that it might have been easier. However, she also had to deal with having her hands, arms, shoulders, and part of her back being nothing more than dry bones, held together by nothing but magic. Compared to some of the people Dr. Cynthia knew, that wasn’t so bad, and most people wouldn’t give her a second look. But Homulilly was brand new, and was to be living with other girls who were also brand new, none of them at all used to the way things were now, so of course she would feel insecure about herself.

Dr. Cynthia opened her mouth to open up a line of dialogue, one that would hopefully reassure the girl about herself, but Homulilly beat her to the punch. “Um, Dr. Cynthia?” she said. “Can I ask you something?”

Well then, that could wait. “Of course.”

“Krim…I mean, Gretchen. Is it really okay to call her that?”

Dr. Cynthia frowned in puzzlement. “Yes, it is. Why wouldn’t it be?”

Homulilly fidgeted, rubbing her calves together. “I h-heard that, um, if you call a witch by the wrong name, then it’s bad for them. Like, it hurts them, but in their head? Or something like that.”

Ah, now things made sense. “Oh no, it’s nothing like that. It’s okay to call her by a shortened name, or a nickname. It’s calling her by her _old_ name that’s dangerous.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Well, before we became witches, we have the names our parents gave us, right? The names we used to go by, right?” When Homulilly nodded, Dr. Cynthia said, “But when we become a witch, everything from your past life, all those memories, and your name, they all get locked up deep inside you, and you get a new name, your witch name. Cynthia. Homulilly. Kriemhild Gretchen. And that’s what you’re known by from there on.”

“Okay…”

“But if you meet someone who used to know you from before, and they call you by your old name, then it…triggers something. Something that hurts.”

Homulilly blinked. “You mean, it makes you remember?”

“No, it doesn’t. But…okay. Think of this way: all of your old memories and your old name, they’re all sleeping inside of you, and the rest of your soul is like their blanket. And having someone call you by your old name makes them…kick in their sleep. It doesn’t wake them up, and you don’t remember anything as a result, but the more that other person uses your old name, the more they kick, the more they tear the blanket.”

“Wow,” Homulilly said softly. “And that really happens? I mean, if you become a witch, what’s the odds of finding someone who knows your name?”

“It doesn’t happen very often, but sometimes you have two magical girls that are friends, and one of them turns into a witch, and the other dies fighting her, so they both show up at the same time, and there’s no one around to explain things to them.”

“That’s terrible though!”

“It is,” Dr. Cynthia sadly confirmed. She had seen several such cases, had worked to mitigate the fallout of those accidents. “That’s why spawn sites have those patrols, to find new girls quickly, and help them before something bad happens-”

Then the door to the bathroom opened, and Gretchen stepped out.

“Sorry,” she said as she went over to sit back next to Homulilly. “I didn’t interrupt, did I?”

“Oh no,” Dr. Cynthia said. “Just answering some questions about how things work now. Are you ready to go on?”

Gretchen picked up her glass from the table and gulped down a few mouthfuls. She nodded.

“Okay. So you were on the roof of the clock tower…”

…

_Then…_

Kriemhild Gretchen had hoped that once she and Homulilly were finally off that enormous clock hand and had something solid beneath them that they would be able to make some sense of their surroundings.

No such luck.

The clock tower that she and Homulilly had woken up on was near the center of one particularly large island, so she had a very good view of the landscape. The city turned out to be composed of a network of circular islands sitting in a large body of water, all connected by bridges. Each island was itself was divided into circular segments, and every few seconds each segment would move a few meters in one direction or the other, each moving opposite of the two segments touching it, taking all of the buildings with it. And whenever it did, the rain would change direction. The city was constantly rearranging itself, and it frankly hurt her head to look at.

It was impossible. It was surreal. And yet, there it was, just a freaky city going around in circles.

Well, at least she and Homulilly weren’t in danger of tumbling into the abyss anymore. They were sitting together on top of the clock, huddled close for warmth, trying not to look over at the gargoyles, all of which depicted alternate versions of themselves.

Kriemhild Gretchen couldn’t make heads or tails out of them. Were they indicating that she and Homulilly used to be fully human, and someone had turned them into monsters? That didn’t make sense no matter how hard she tried to figure it out. How was this accomplished? Where were they, and why were they stuck there? It didn’t make any sense at all!

Also, what was up with those bows? At least she had seen the actual shield that those Homulillies were wearing, though its significance was still lost on her. It had been that disc that acted as the lock tying her arms together. But she never saw any bows when she-

Suddenly Kriemhild Gretchen remembered the strange, bendy wire that had been pressing against her neck. Oh. That had probably been it.

“What’s going to happen to us?” Homulilly said suddenly.

Kriemhild Gretchen shook her head. “I wish I knew.” They had already circled the top of the clock tower in search of a door to the inside, but there had been nothing. No ladder leading downward, no method of escape at all. So they were stuck: stuck naked in the rain, to die of exposure or starvation, whichever got them first.

 _Unless we decide to beat them both and just take a walk off the edge,_ Kriemhild Gretchen thought bitterly. It was a terrible thing to consider, but it might just be better than slowly wasting away out in the open.

Homulilly glanced at her, almost as if she knew what Kriemhild Gretchen was thinking. “It’s okay,” she said, reaching out to take Kriemhild Gretchen’s hand. “We’ll be-”

Then she glanced down, gasped, and suddenly jerked her hand away. Kriemhild Gretchen stiffened. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry, I forgot!” Homulilly said, cradling her arms to her chest. “I didn’t mean to touch you!”

Then Kriemhild Gretchen understood. Sighing, she reached over to touch Homulilly’s forearm. The other girl winced and turned away.

“Let me see it,” Kriemhild Gretchen said.

“No!”

“Come on. It’s okay.”

“But…but they’re ugly!”

“I don’t think so.” Kriemhild Gretchen gently coaxed Homulilly’s arm out and drew it toward her. She clasped the other girl’s bony hand in both of her own. “Besides, we’re all weird here. At least people are supposed to have bones in their arms.” She raised a couple of legs and twisted them around into odd shapes. “Me? I’ve got spaghetti for legs! That’s way weirder!”

Homulilly looked down at all of Kriemhild Gretchen’s wiry legs where they had spread out around her. She reached down and picked up a few in her free hand. “Can you still feel with these things?”

Kriemhild Gretchen giggled. “That tickles.”

“This is so weird,” Homulilly sighed. “This is just so weird.”

Suddenly the thunderous bell rang, the sound of it smashing through their heads. They both winced and slapped their hands over their ears, but less than a second later the whole clock tower roughly jerked a few meters over.

The two of them fortunately were sitting a fair distance from the edge, but the sudden shift knocked them both over. Kriemhild Gretchen sprawled onto the concrete, and Homulilly went down on top of her.

Reeling from the shock, Kriemhild Gretchen turned onto her back to find Homulilly’s face staring down at her. The two girls locked eyes, and then with a flush of embarrassment, they simultaneously became aware of how much of their skin was touching. As well as…other areas.

“I’m sorry!” Homulilly cried as she leapt off. Her pale face was now red as a tomato. “I didn’t mean to!”

Kriemhild Gretchen hastily sat up. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” she said, though her own cheeks were burning as well. “It’s not like-”

Then, almost as if on cue, the rain reversed direction and started falling down again, soaking them both.

The embarrassment faded from both their faces, to be replaced with resigned misery. Homulilly sighed and sat down. Kriemhild Gretchen scooted over next to her.

“I liked it better the other way,” Kriemhild Gretchen said as she started shivering.

“Me too.”

The two glanced at one another. No words were said, but they moved toward each other anyway, huddling close for warmth.

“We’re going to die out here,” Homulilly said.

Kriemhild Gretchen opened her mouth to deny this, but found that she couldn’t. Homulilly was right. There was nothing they could do, nowhere to go but down.

And as they sat together in shared misery, Kriemhild Gretchen found herself wondering how long it would take until taking the long road down was the better option.

…

_Now…_

“What is that place?” Gretchen asked. “Why does it even exist?”

Dr. folded her hands over her knees. “They’re called spawning sites. They’re places in the afterlife where new souls, well, show up, right after dying. No one really knows why they appear as surreal cities, but the prevailing theory that it’s due to negative energy that gets released when we die. Presumably most of it is harvested by the Incubators, but enough leaks into here, and over time it builds up, creating those cities.” She shrugged. “Or at least, that’s the most popular explanation.”

“They…the people who found us,” Homulilly said. “They called that place Doomsday Clock.”

Dr. Cynthia nodded. “That’s right. I woke up in a place called Gallows Heights. They all have pretty terrible names.”

“Why doesn’t anyone get rid of them then?” Gretchen wanted to know. “If they’re so terrible, then someone should destroy them!”

“Because we can’t,” Dr. Cynthia said honestly. “People have tried in the past, and it did no good. They just…rebuilt themselves again.”

“Then make them less horrible! Clean them with…with… _good_ magic?”

“Things like that have been tried, but never held. It’s kind of like trying to shovel your front walk while it’s still snowing. Better to just make sure we keep patrolling them so we can find anyone new before they get hurt.”

Homulilly scowled. “They should have showed up faster then. Before we did what we did.”

…

 _Then_ …

“Hey, Kriemhild?”

Kriemhild Gretchen didn’t looked up. She didn’t react at all. She just stayed where she was, slumped over and staring at her legs, which were splayed over the grey, stone tiles.

“Kriemhild?”

What was the point? They were stuck, trapped in the middle of a waking nightmare, doomed to die quickly of a long fall or slowly of exposure.

“Kriemhild.”

She should have just let them drop. Free them from the barbed wire, yes, but drop down immediately afterward. Then it would all be over. They were going to end up dead anyway, so why not-

“Kriemhild Gretchen!”

Sighing, Kriemhild Gretchen brushed the wet locks of hair hanging down around her face and glanced to the side at her companion. “What?” she said.

Homulilly was sitting on her haunches, looking down at where Kriemhild Gretchen’s legs were lying like soggy noodles. “I’ve been thinking. We’re…pretty strong, right? I mean, stronger than we look.”

“So?”

Homulilly picked up one of Kriemhild Gretchen’s limp legs. “So how far do you think you can jump with these?”

Kriemhild Gretchen frowned. “What does it matter? Down is down, and we’d still die if…”

Her voice trailed off. She looked down at the rest of her legs. Three of them curled upward. She waggled their ends.

“Huh.”

Kriemhild Gretchen stood up. The way her legs were arranged around her was kind of like the wire support of a wide Victorian gown, or a birdcage. She bounced a bit with them experimentally.

“Huh.”

Then she and Homulilly looked back out at the city. Yes, the clock tower they were on was the tallest building, but not by that much. And while the next rooftop was too far to leap for a normal person, it…might not be outside her ability to reach.

Might.

She and Kriemhild Gretchen exchanged a glance. Then she took a deep breath, hunkered down low, and then pushed herself up with all her might.

Kriemhild Gretchen shot into the sky like she was strapped to a rocket.

“Aaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh!” she screamed, arms flailing and legs writhing like a den of snakes. The roof of the clock tower got smaller and smaller and smaller…

Then it stopped.

And then it started to get bigger again.

“Kriemhild!” Homulilly screamed from below. Kriemhild Gretchen barely heard her. She was falling and falling and falling as the rooftop rushed up to meet her-

Kriemhild Gretchen closed her eyes.

Then she stopped.

There had been no impact, no painful collision with the concrete. In fact, as far as she knew, she was still in the air. Still, she kept her eyes closed. Maybe it was like those cartoons when one of the characters would run out over open space but not fall until they actually looked down and saw-

“Kriem-Kriemhild?”

Wait. Come to think of it, she did feel the rooftop. At the ends of her legs, to be exact.

Kriemhild Gretchen opened her eyes. She had come to a stop a little over a meter before impact and was hovering in place. She glanced this way, and then that way.

All twelve legs were again extended around, arresting her fall and dispersing her momentum.

Somehow, without her thinking about it, she had saved herself on pure reflex.

“Heh,” Kriemhild Gretchen giggled. “Heh. Hehehehehe. Okay. Okay, th-that was…um, that was…”

“Er, Kriemhild?!”

Kriemhild Gretchen looked over her shoulder. Then she blushed. Homulilly had fallen back in a heap as Kriemhild Gretchen had come down toward her and was staring up at Kriemhild Gretchen’s butt, which was mere centimeters away from her face.

“Oops!” Kriemhild Gretchen hastily scurried around away from her. “S-Sorry about that.”

Homulilly slowly breathed out. “S’okay,” she said as she sat up. Then she brightened. “And…hey! We might have a way out of here!”

Maybe so, but Kriemhild Gretchen was still a little dubious about their chances. “It’s still a long way,” she said.

“Better than staying here.”

No arguments there. The two of them went over to the edge of the roof, just behind the gargoyles. Kriemhild Gretchen lowered herself down, and Homulilly climbed onto her back and wrapped her arms around Kriemhild Gretchen’s shoulders. Holding tight to her companion’s legs, Kriemhild Gretchen rose up again.

“I’m not too heavy, am I?” Homulilly asked.

Kriemhild Gretchen did a couple of experimental bounces. Homulilly was as light as a pillow. “Nope! You’re fine. Just…close your eyes and hold on tight.”

Homulilly didn’t say anything, but her tightened just a little.

Even though she knew it was a bad idea, Kriemhild Gretchen still shot one last look to the abyss. She gulped. This was going to be incredibly dangerous and terrifying, and if she screwed up, it was going to be a long way to the streets below.

…

_Now…_

“Well, I have to say, you two certainly incredibly brave,” Dr. Cynthia said. “Most girls wouldn’t have the courage to try something like that, especially so soon after waking up.”

Gretchen. “But it was pointless, wasn’t it? I mean, if we had just stayed put, they would have found us anyway!”

“And you had no way of knowing that,” Dr. Cynthia said. “It doesn’t take anything away from how brave it was.”

Homulilly shivered. “I don’t want to be brave. I don’t want to have to be brave ever again. Not after that.”

…

_Then…_

Leaping from the top of the clock tower toward the nearest rooftop was not the scariest thing Kriemhild Gretchen had to do in her short existence. Compared to freeing both her and Homulilly from strands of barbed wire while clinging to the front of a massive clock hundreds of meters in the air, nothing could ever be.

But it was a close second.

She sailed through the air, Homulilly clinging tightly to her back. They were both screaming. Might as well. It wasn’t as if they had any concentration that could be thrown off. They were totally at the mercy of momentum and gravity.

Far beneath them the abyss passed by. Kriemhild Gretchen tried not to look down, so she kept her focus on the incoming rooftop. If only the closest building wasn’t so much shorter than the clock tower, or so far away. She prayed that she hadn’t misjudged the distance.

The roof was coming up fast. “Hold on!” she called to Homulilly. Homulilly didn’t respond, but she did tighten her grip.

Almost there. Kriemhild Gretchen readied her legs. She would have to hit it at an angle and hope that she didn’t skid too much. The rain was still coming down, so it was going to be slick.

Almost there, almost there. Kriemhild Gretchen tensed up. No matter what she did, the landing was going to be rough.

And then, just before they hit, the gong went off. The rain suddenly shot up from the roof, pelting Kriemhild Gretchen and Homulilly from below.

And the roof shifted.

The surprise made Kriemhild Gretchen’s legs jerk. Too late she tried to stick them back down again, but she ended up hitting the roof hard.

The wind was driven from her lungs as hot pain blossomed all over her thigh, side, and shoulder. She was sent bouncing across the roof in a tangle of her own legs until her back slammed into the small wall that surrounded the rooftop.

The impact nearly knocked Kriemhild Gretchen right out. She lay in a heap, barely able to move, her whole body wracked with pain.

She might have just kept lying there in misery, but not even that was allowed her. “Kriemhild!” she heard Homulilly cry out. “Help!”

Though every breath burned, Kriemhild Gretchen eased herself up to look.

What she saw made her forget her pain.

Homulilly had not been stopped by the wall. Rather, she had gone right over it, with only the tips of her bony fingers clinging onto its edge.

“Homulilly!” Kriemhild Gretchen cried. Okay, her legs didn’t hurt at least, so she let them do all the moving. She pushed herself out of her own tangle toward her friend. “Hold on! I’m-”

Homulilly’s fingers slipped, and with a scream she fell.


	4. A Painful Awakening, Part 4

A Painful Awakening, Part 4

_Now…_

"That must have been terrifying," Dr. Cynthia said softly. "What did you do?"

Gretchen didn't answer. She sat with one hand holding onto Homulilly's, dark pink eyes staring unblinking at the tea table. She seemed to have lost all awareness of what was going on around her.

Homulilly looked at her, then at Cynthia, then back at Gretchen, and winced. "Um, _Gretchen-chan…"_

Gretchen swallowed hard. Her eyes were misting over.

"You don't have to answer if you don't want to," Cynthia told her. Her job was often a delicate balance, always dancing on the line of knowing when to prod and when to back off.

"No," Gretchen said. "No, I…" She took in a deep, shaking breath and slowly let it out. "It was. Terrifying, I mean. I…I thought she was dead. I thought she was dead, and I would be stuck there all alone, my only friend gone…

…

_Then…_

"Homulilly!" Kriemhild Gretchen screamed. She rushed over to the edge where her friend had disappeared. Maybe it wasn't too late. Maybe she had managed to grab onto a ledge or a windowsill or something. Maybe she was fine, and Kriemhild Gretchen wouldn't be left alone in this hellhole.

She grabbed the edge of the small wall and looked down, already dreading the sight of a broken body lying in a puddle of blood.

What she didn't expect was a spaceship.

It was silver and vaguely wedge-shaped, with two big engines like large fans on either side of the back. Its sides were open, and she could see people, actual living, breathing people, all of which were wearing orange jumpsuits with yellow hats, many of which were leaning out, holding onto leather straps for support. A few were pointing up to her and gesticulating wildly. Others were clustered around a specific spot on the spaceship's side, where a long cable was hanging out and descending into the abyss.

The spaceship lifted higher, and Kriemhild Gretchen saw that the cable was supporting another girl in orange and yellow. She was attached to the cable by a harness, holding onto it with one hand, while the other was extended down to hold tightly onto a bony arm.

A bony arm belonging to Homulilly.

"Homulilly-chan!" Kriemhild Gretchen screamed.

Homulilly was gasping and kicking as she swayed back and forth over the abyss, but girl who had her refused to let her go. Slowly but steadily, the cable retracted, drawing both of them back up toward safety. As they did, the spaceship continued to rise. "See!" one of them called out. "There's another on the roof!"

Kriemhild Gretchen scampered back as the spaceship rose into view. Now that she could see the whole thing, she saw that Homulilly had been brought fully on board. Someone had given her a blanket, and she was standing around, gawking at everything, her mouth opening and closing like a particularly surprised goldfish.

Now that they were closer, Kriemhild Gretchen could see that all of the people in orange in yellow were also young girls, and one of them was leaning out of the side of the spaceship, one hand holding onto a strap with the other extended toward Kriemhild.

"Come on!" she called. "We're here to help you!"

It wasn't that Kriemhild Gretchen didn't believe her. It's just that she was so completely overwhelmed that she had forgotten how to respond to anything other than lying back staring.

Then Homulilly saw her. "Kriemhild!" she said. She beckoned. "Please, come on!"

Kriemhild Gretchen blinked. Then she slowly pulled herself up, her legs falling into place around her.

"That's right," the orange-clad girl said encouragingly. "Come on, sweetie. You can do it."

Feeling like she was in a dream, Kriemhild Gretchen walked toward her. She reached out with both arms, letting herself be pulled on board.

The orange-clad girl was apparently very strong, and she was able to bring Kriemhild on board with no sign of effort. One she had her legs under her, someone gave her a blanket of her own, while another handed her a chocolate bar and what looked like a plastic bottle of orange juice. A lot of people started saying things to her, mostly words of encouragement and promises of safety, but to be honest she didn't hear any of them. Everything was still too strange.

She did hear one thing though.

"Kriemhild!" Homulilly cried as she threw herself at her. She seized her with both arms and held her close, as if the slightest move might take her away. As someone who had been utterly convinced of Homulilly's death only a few seconds earlier, Kriemhild Gretchen had no problem in returning the embrace.

"We got them! Let's go!" someone shouted, and the spaceship lifted higher and higher.

Still in each other's arms, Kriemhild Gretchen and Homulilly watched as the clock city retreated away from them. They saw the tower they had been bound to, something that had seemed like such an inescapable prison, now getting smaller and smaller. They saw the circular islands and their regularly shifting buildings vanishing into the distance.

"Don't worry," someone said, patting the pair on their shoulders. "We're taking you someplace safe. You don't have to be afraid anymore."

Anymore? Despite their apparent rescue, Kriemhild Gretchen wasn't so sure about that. But as she and Homulilly hold each other as they are taken further and further away from that nightmare, she allowed herself just a little bit of hope.

…

_Now…_

"They saved us," Gretchen whispered. "They took us away from that place."

"I'm sorry they didn't get there sooner," Cynthia told her. "The patrols are usually pretty quick at finding new arrivals, but not always."

"No! No, not at all! I'm just, you know, glad they found us when they did." Gretchen then looked toward the window, and the city beyond. "Does everyone new come here?"

"To Freehaven?" Cynthia shook her head. "No. There are hundreds of territories out there, and thousands of cities. Several of those cities are designed specifically to welcome newcomers, and the patrols take anyone new to the closest such city. Freehaven is just the closest such city to Doomsday Clock."

"Well, I'm glad we came here," Gretchen said. "Even if it's still…very, very weird."

"It is."

Then Homulilly said, "Um…"

"Yes?"

"A-About that…that video they showed us when we first got here. In the orientation. About the…the _aliens…"_

…

_Then…_

The room wasn't large, roughly around the size of an average high school classroom. All told, there were about fifty seats, though today there were fewer than two dozen to fill them. They all solemnly filed in, a few whispering to each other while the rest remained silent. When they took their seats, most did so alone, spreading themselves out through the room instead of all gathering near the front. It was a queer assembly of monsters, nearly all of them strangers and none of them sure what to make of the others. The only two exceptions were Kriemhild Gretchen and Homulilly, who sat together in the back, hands clasped tightly.

Once everyone was seated, the lights dimmed and the small screen at the front of the room lit up. Pictures of a strange city were shown. All the buildings were tilted at a thirty degree angle, and overhead the yellow sky was twisted into a huge vortex. A voice-over started playing.

" _When I first woke up, I was in a concrete cell so small that I could barely sit up. The walls were covered with graffiti of me enduring…horrible things, and the only way out was a tiny crawlspace that I had to literally lay flat on my stomach and pull myself along with my arms to get through. I had no clothes, no memories, no idea where I was or what had happened to me, why I looked like such a monster, and no idea who I was. All I had was a name. I thought I was alone. I thought no one could possibly understand. I was wrong."_

"Well, that sounds familiar," someone said in a loud whisper. This was met by shushing, a couple giggles, and a few murmurs of agreement from the other girls. In the video, the voice's owner was shown walking through a more traditional city, the one that they all were in now. She seemed normal enough, with short brown hair and slightly pudgy features, but the grey scales covering her forehead, temples, and the back of her arms were quite noticeable. Some of the girls started giggling, though this just earned them glares from the others. After all, how were they in any position to judge? Another voice started speaking.

" _Like so many others, Madison was stripped of everything and thrust into a world of horror."_

A closer shot of Madison was shown, speaking directly to the camera. _"I thought I was in Hell. I literally thought I was in Hell."_

"Still not convinced we're not," someone mumbled. This time, no one told her to be quiet. On the screen, the second woman had started talking again.

" _But as hellish as her awakening might have been, what she found once she left was anything but. Instead of isolation and estrangement, she found others, others who had endured the same terrors she had and wanted to help. She found a place to start anew and build a new life. She found a home. She found…Freehaven."_

The second speaker appeared on the screen then, a smiling white girl in her late teens with short green hair and eyes of the same color. That in itself was not unusual, but the fact that her bare arms consisted of a series of large metallic spheres stuck together like magnets was certainly eye-grabbing.

" _Hello, my name is Vionna, and I'm the president here at the Freehaven Integration Bureau,"_ the girl said, identifying herself as the narrator. _"As you can see from my arms, I am a little different. Just like Madison, and just like many of you, I had no idea what was wrong with me, or where I was. And when I finally learned the truth, I almost couldn't believe it, it sounded so strange. But as the fact that I have magnets for arms proves, reality is often stranger than we can comprehend."_

"Oh, this should be good," muttered the girl that had spoken earlier. She was leaning forward with her arms slumped over the back of the chair in front of her. On the screen, the view was now shooting through space, passing through nebulas, asteroid belts, and fields of stars.

" _Despite the desires expressed through science fiction, humanity has always believed itself to be alone in the universe. A single sentient species adrift in an endless ocean of stars. However, nothing could be further from the truth."_

The flabbergasted audience was then treated to a montage of creatures that seemed to be straight out of the aforementioned science fiction stories: short, squat creatures with large mouths and heavy white fur; centaurs with two eyes on stalks rising above the ones in their skulls and bladed tails; featherless birds with quilled backs and fleshy membranes stretching between its legs and all four of its arms; glittering multicolored spheres that looked like Christmas tree ornaments; reptilian creatures that seemed to consist of large heads with bulbous eyes surrounded by a multitude of multi-jointed limbs; and more. More than one of the girls squeaked in surprise when a particularly strange specimen showed up.

"Aliens?" said the loud girl. "Are you freaking serious? _Aliens?"_

" _Separated by the vast expanse of space, all of these fantastic peoples hail from planets and cultures as rich and detailed as mankind's,"_ Vionna's voice continued, naturally oblivious to the incredulous reactions her recording was receiving. _"Had we all been left alone, we might have continued going about our business, completely oblivious to the other intelligent life that was out there. Unfortunately, such would not be the case."_

The alien that popped up next drew a much more varied response, though it edged toward positive. It was certainly adorable, with a white, feline body; a long, fluffy tail; and a smiling face with two beady, red eyes. Long appendages extended from its ears, and there was some sort of marking on its back. Most of the girls giggled at the sight, and more than one started cooing over it. The loud girl, it should be noted, didn't seem so impressed, judging by the way she had slouched over the chair she was leaning on with a particularly audible, "Oh my God. Really?"

" _This this known as an Incubator. Don't be fooled by its unassuming appearance. Incubators are actually a highly advanced race, who have mastered science to a degree that we would consider magic."_

"Christ," the loud one groaned. She was immediately shushed by the others.

" _Incubators run what is probably the most extensive con in the universe. Using their technology, they can actually store up the emotions given off by other species as an energy source. And they get those emotions…from us."_ Now a still picture of several human girls from numerous races and cultures filled the screen. _"The Incubators' plan is fiendishly simple: they approach young girls with potential for great emotional output and offer them a tempting contract."_ The outfits of the girls onscreen shifted and changed, becoming almost comically gaudy and extravagant. _"In exchange for one granted wish, each girl will be given what, to them, appears to be magical powers, and are told that they are now warriors fighting to defend their friends and families from evil monsters called witches."_

"What? _Really?"_ the loud girl shouted.

"Dude, shut up," said a girl that was sitting in the row in front of her.

Now the film showed various magical girls squaring up against vague, shadowy monsters. _"But it is all a trick. Once a contract is made, the hapless victim's emotional state deteriorates, until at last they become consumed by despair and transformed into witches and are struck down by other girls who have made contracts and believe they are doing the right thing. That is why I, you, and so many others look the way we do. We are all witches, and-"_

This, apparently, was the last straw for the loud girl, who immediately leapt up and proclaimed, "All right, what is this? Bunny aliens? Little girls with magical powers? And so apparently we're this way because we had a bad day and turned into monsters? What kind of Saturday morning cartoon bullshit are you feeding us here?"

The others grumbled about how obnoxious she was being, though some seemed to agree with her. The one in the row in front of her, however, did not. "Will you just shut up already?" she said. "You're not helping."

"NO!" The loud girl jabbed a finger at her as she continued to rant. "This is bullshit! Don't tell me you're buying this stupid-"

Finally fed up, the other girl stood up and, with her back still to the loud girl, placed both hands on either side of her own head. With that, she twisted her head around a full one hundred and eighty degrees so that she was glaring directly at the loud girl, who immediately shut up.

"Name _one_ thing from that video that's weirder than anything else we've seen," the annoyed girl said, pressing her hands to her temples. "Just _one_ thing." With that, she yanked up. Her head popped right off her neck like the cork from a champagne bottle, and she held it high, where it glowered down at the now very quiet and very pale heckler like some sort of pagan god. "Otherwise, _shut up!"_

The heckler doubled over and threw up, and all around pandemonium broke out. Crying out in alarm, the other girls retreated from the newly decapitated creature as if she were the Headless Horseman himself. The video paused, the lights went back on, and the supervisors immediately rushed in to restore order. The speed and efficiency by which they did so was a pretty sure indicator that this sort of thing was a regular occurrence during orientations.

Not everyone had panicked when the annoyed girl had removed her head. Kriemhild Gretchen and Homulilly remained in their seats, watching the proceedings with equal measure of horror and fascination.

Though she was just as shaken, Kriemhild Gretchen noticed how scared her friend was, so she put on a brave face. "Don't worry, Lilly-chan," whispered Kriemhild Gretchen with a comforting squeeze of her fingers and a cheerful smile. "They're just upset. We'll be safe here, you'll see!"

Biting her lip, Homulilly nodded at her and forced a smile, but inwardly she wasn't much reassured. She wished that that terrifying display had been the most horrific thing they had seen, but by now such things were becoming a frightening regularity. Everywhere they had gone, there had been nothing but monsters and nightmares, and no amount of pretty architecture and comforting promotional films would change that.

Then she looked down, at the horrific display that was her own arms. Repressing a shudder, Homulilly quickly tore her eyes away. No matter what happened, she wouldn't be able to escape from the monsters. After all, she was one.

…

_Now…_

"Are there really aliens here?" Homulilly said. "Monsters from other planets?"

"Well…" Cynthia hesitated. "Yes and no. The Incubators made a point of contacting as many different species as they could throughout the galaxy, and anyone who has made a contract with them winds up here when she dies. But they're not monsters, and to be exact they're not really aliens, not anymore. This is a place for all of us."

"Okay," Homulilly said dubiously. "But are the aliens…nice?"

"Some are. Some aren't. It depends. What's important to understand is that they're all _people,_ just the same as you and I. All of them are young girls of their own species, and all of them just as scared and confused as we were. Some of them might seem…frightening to us, but we're just as frightening to many of them, at least at first."

"Yeah, when that girl took her own head off…that kind of freaked me out," Gretchen admitted.

Cynthia smiled. "Well, that's a pretty rare sight, no matter what species you are."

"Okay, b-but do _you_ know any?" Homulilly said. "Aliens, I mean."

"I do," Cynthia said. "Quite a few of my friends are nonhumans."

Gretchen perked up. "Can we meet them?" she asked excitedly.

"Eventually, but there's a lot you need to learn before that. But don't worry: I'll be there to help you every step of the way. That's what I'm here for, what we're all here for, so if there's anything that scares or bothers you, please don't be afraid to ask." She looked from one girl to the next. "Do you have any other questions for me?"

Gretchen and Homulilly looked at each other, and Gretchen let out a nervous giggle.

"Um, hundreds? B-But I think we'd better think about them first."

"Good idea," Dr. Cynthia said. "Sleep on it first. It'll make it easier to put them to words."

"Um, actually!" Homulilly said suddenly. "I have a couple."

Cynthia nodded. "Of course. Go ahead."

"You said that people like Gretchen-chan and me are called…Valpursnitzel?"

"Walpurgisnacht," Cynthia corrected. "Val. Purg. Is. Not."

Gretchen wrinkled her nose. "I don't think I'll ever be able to pronounce that."

"Um, okay," Homulilly said. "But it's when two witches…combine, right? Like, we were one single big witch for a while."

"Essentially, yes."

"Are most Val…Val…um, are most of them like us? Or can they be…bigger?"

"Not usually, but they can be. Most Walpurgisnachts only have a couple of individuals, and the magical girls that bring them down don't usually even know that they were anything other than an unusually strong witch. A few are made up of more than two, but it rarely goes over a small handful. We had one that was made up of four a few years ago, and another that had seven some time before time."

"Wow," Homulilly said. She tried to imagine what waking up must have been for them, to have seven strange, naked people all in the same place, all with weird alterations and no idea about who any of them were. "Um, any…bigger than that?"

"Very few," Cynthia said. "But it does happen. There was one noteworthy case where one actually had twenty-eight girls."

" _Twenty-eight?!"_

"Wow," Gretchen said breathlessly. "Um, what happened to them?"

"Oh, they didn't come through here. I only heard about it in the news. But last I checked, they opened up their own business together, some kind of machine shop. Just…rented out an entire apartment building, set up shop in the bottom floor, and they all lived together in the upper stories."

"Oh. Well, that's…really nice that they all decided to stick together!"

"It is. And Walpurgisnachts usually do," Cynthia told her. "And well…" She smirked, leaned forward, and lowered her voice a little, her hand cupped around the side of her mouth. "Okay, you didn't hear this from me, but the rumor is that if anyone was part of a Walpurgisnacht together, their souls are connected from that time forward, building each other up and strengthening each other."

Both girls lit up at that. "Really?" Homulilly said.

"Nobody knows for sure. It's just a story, after all. But hey." Cynthia shrugged. "It makes sense to me. I mean, your souls were literally combined for a time. It makes sense that they would respond well to one another."

A small smile started to creep across Homulilly's face, the first Cynthia had seen her wear. Noticing this, Gretchen grinned, and leaned in to playfully bump her cheek against her friend's. Homulilly blinked in surprise, but then smiled and leaned in close to nuzzle Gretchen's face with her own.

Cynthia couldn't keep her smirk from growing. Walpurgisnachts might not be common, but she had seen her fair share, and it wasn't at all unheard of that they show up already quite affectionate with one another. It was honestly really cute, and it did make therapy with them a lot easier, as they seemed to have a smoother path to recovery.

Which wasn't to say that they didn't have a difficult road ahead of them. Possible spiritual resonance or no, they had still been pretty heavily traumatized by their experiences, same as the rest of their class. But at the very least they had each other to help them through it.

"Well, it looks like you two will be just fine," Cynthia said. "Shall we pick this up tomorrow?"

"Okay," Gretchen said as she stood up. She frowned and looked down at the floor as she struggled to arrange her many legs in a manner that would allow her to walk without taking up an entire hallway or rising a full meter over Homulilly's head.

The two headed for the door, but then Homulilly looked down at where her and Gretchen's hands were entwined, and she hesitated.

"Homulilly?" Cynthia said. "Are you all right?"

Taking a deep breath, Homulilly released Gretchen's hand and turned back toward Dr. Cynthia.

"Um, th-there's actually something else you can do for me," she said, wringing her skeletal fingers together.

"Name it," Cynthia said.

…

_Tick, tick, tick…_

Credit where it was due, the Freehaven Integration Bureau at least had kept its word to look after those that had come to it for help. Homulilly and Gretchen had been given a small but very nice apartment within the building until they were able to support themselves. It was about the size of a large hotel room, with two beds, a single-legged table, two easy chairs, a small kitchenette, and a tiny bathroom. Pink wallpaper patterned the walls, a vase of flowers sat on the table, and a large picture window provided a wonderful view of the town.

An antique clock sat on a shelf, ticking away the hours.

"Oh, wow!" Gretchen exclaimed as she ran around the room, looking at everything. "It's so pretty!"

"I-It is," Homulilly said as she dubiously glanced around.

Throwing the window open, Gretchen leaded her entire upper body out. "Look, Lilly-chan! You can see everything!"

Homulilly dutifully did as she was asked. It was a fantastic view, she had to admit. The Bureau was located on the top of the hill that Freehaven sat upon. From their room, they could see the whole of the town as it sloped down to the sea, all white walls, tiered towers, and flat red-tiled roofs. The sky was clear and cloudless, and a fresh breeze brought the salty smell of the ocean to them. Above, gulls cried out to each other while below the chatter of the townsfolk mingled happily together.

Gretchen closed her eyes and inhaled deeply through her nose and breathed out through her mouth. "Wow, this is so much better than that other place we've been."

That much was true, though Homulilly felt that the bar was being set a little low. "Yes, it is," she said.

"Oh look, Lilly-chan!" Gretchen cried, pointing. Six softly glowing orbs, one red, two pink, one blue, one yellow, and one dark violet, were rising up to go flying over the city. "What do you think those are?"

Fascinated despite herself, Homulilly leaned out to watch. "I believe…I believe those are some of the aliens they told us about. I think they were in the film."

Gretchen's dark pink eyes shone with excitement. "They're so pretty," she murmured.

"I…I suppose they are." She wondered what sort of person a floating orb could be, and if they could even communicate at all.

Flashing Homulilly an amused smile, Gretchen went back inside. With a happy twirl, she fell back into one of the beds. "Ah, so nice!" she exclaimed as she rolled back and forth over the blanket. "You know, I have a really good feeling about this."

Homulilly closed and latched the window. "If…if you say so." Talking things over with Dr. Cynthia had cheered her some, but now that their session was over, she felt that fear starting to return, that gnawing doubt and anxiety that had been dogging her ever since they had been rescued.

"I do." Gretchen sat up. "You shouldn't worry so much, Lilly-chan. No one's going to hurt us here."

"I…if you say so, Gretchen-chan." Homulilly wondered how many times she had said that evasive phrase since they had arrived.

Apparently too many, as Gretchen clearly wasn't buying it. Giving Homulilly a shrewd look, she scooted over and patted the space next to her. "Come here."

Homulilly hesitated. She knew what was coming. They had had this talk before. And it wasn't that Gretchen wasn't right, it was just so hard for Homulilly to see things her way. Every day since they had arrived they had woken up had been terrifying, and if they truly were dead, if this was the actual afterlife, all the more reason not to trust it. After all, what would be more hellish than, after the horror they had seen, to finally promise them paradise only to tear it away once their guard was down.

"Homulilly," Gretchen said, more sternly this time. "Come here."

Her head down, Homulilly walked across the room and quickly plopped down next to her. She kept her eyes focused on the floor, unwilling to meet her friend's eyes.

_Tick, tick, tick…_

Gretchen studied Homulilly's face for a moment before saying, "Homulilly, I know things are real scary right now. I know nothing makes sense. But you shouldn't be so worried all the time." She gently started stroking Homulilly's hair. "You've just got to have some faith, Lilly-chan!"

Homulilly took a deep breath and slowly let it out. "I'll…I'll try, Gretchen-chan."

Smiling, Gretchen reached up to brush her fingertips over the petals of the red flower that adored Homulilly's head, the flower that was as much a part of her as her hair was. "Don't be so moody. I'll look after you! Nobody's going to hurt you so long as Gretchen-chan's here!"

Homulilly shivered, but that was mostly due to the tingles the touch of Gretchen's fingers was sending through her. "I know you will, Gretchen-chan."

Gretchen's smile widened. Then she glanced down at where Homulilly's hands were folded in her lap and her gaze grew pensive. Homulilly, who knew full well where this was going, couldn't help but wince.

Homulilly's request to Dr. Cynthia were for a pair of gloves, ones that would cover the entirety of her arms, from her shoulders to her fingertips. The gloves were of soft velvet, of a deep violet color, like her eyes.

Reaching down, Gretchen gently pulled off Homulilly's gloves off. "You shouldn't hide these, you know."

_Tick, tick, tick…_

In response, Homulilly lifted her bare arm and spread her fingers. Her hands and arms were still nothing more than naked white bones, stripped of flesh. They still moved and felt like the limbs of a normal person, but Homulilly was clearly not normal.

"But Gretchen-chan, you saw how everyone reacted when that girl pulled her head off," she protested. "They're as strange as she is, but they were still afraid. How do you think they'll react when they see that I'm…I'm a _skeleton?"_

"They're _new,_ like we are. The people that already live here are used to it. They won't be afraid." Gretchen clasped Homulilly's bony fingers with her own and squeezed tightly. "Just like I'm not."

Despite her fear, Homulilly felt a small smile forming. Gretchen's optimism was infectious. In fact, if it weren't for her, Homulilly probably wouldn't have made it this far.

Then Homulilly looked over to where the clock was steadily ticking away and shuddered. No, that was understating things to a criminal degree. She wouldn't have made it at all. Gretchen had saved her, when they had woken up. Without her, she would still be…

_Tick, tick, tick…_

…

Then…

… _tick, tick, tick…_

_Pain. Pain and cold. Hot pain digging into her exposed flesh, and cold metal pressing against her back. That was the first thing she noticed as she was inched toward wakefulness. Something sharp was binding to her to something metal, and binding her tightly. She was propped upright, slumping into her bindings' embrace. And somewhere, she could hear echoing sounds of a large lock, counting away the hours in some sort of large space._

… _tick, tick, tick…_

_She was moving, albeit slowly. The metal thing was jerking its way around in a slow circle, with each sudden stop causing the dagger-like points to bite into her skin. But despite the agony it caused, she couldn't bring herself to fully awake, to open her eyes to the nightmare that was waiting for her._

… _tick, tick, tick…_

" _Wake up! Please, you have to wake up!"_

_Someone was shaking her by the shoulders. Frowning, she fought against the weight of her eyelids and managed to crack them open. At first, all she saw was a shapeless pink blur. But then her vision started to come into focus, and she was able to make out the face of a young girl, staring down at her with scared eyes._

" _You're awake!" the girl exclaimed. "Just…Just hang on! I'll get you off!"_

_Get her off? What was going on? Where was she?_

_She glanced down, and then a shock of fear made her body stiffen. She now knew three things. First, both she and the girl were completely naked, which explained the exposure she had felt. Second, the girl had no legs. Well, she did, but they took the form of twelve long, whiplike wires that extended from her waist like the legs of a spider, or maybe the tentacles of an octopus._

_The third thing she noticed was that she wasn't near a large clock, she was_ on _it. She was strapped by barbed wire to the second hand of a huge clock face set into a monstrous tower. Below her was nothing but blackness, making it impossible to tell how far up they were. They could be kilometers high for all she knew. The other girl was using her wirelike "legs" to cling to the hour hand as she tried to wrestle the barbed wire away from Homulilly's body._

… _tick, tick, tick…_

" _What?" she gasped "Where?"_

_Then she glanced up and her mind went blank. Her arms, which were bound over her head, were nothing more than pure white bone._

_She screamed._

…

… _tick, tick, tick…_

Tearing her gaze away from the clock, Homulilly felt her eyes mist up. Biting her lower lip, she tried to fight back the tears, to shove her fear and her grief back into the bottle, but she couldn't. It was all too much.

Fortunately, Gretchen was already there. Wrapping her arms around Homulilly's shaking form, she brought her to her chest and held her as she cried. "Shhh," she murmured, stroking Homulilly's hair. "It's okay. I'm here. It's okay."

Nodding miserably, Homullily clutched at Gretchen with her bony fingers and choked out, "Please don't leave me."

"I won't," Gretchen told her. "No matter what, I'm not going anywhere." Placing her fingers under Homulilly's chin, she lifted the sobbing girl's face up until their gazes met. Smiling brightly, Gretchen said, "And that's a promise!"


	5. Settling In, Part 1

Homulilly awoke from dark dreams to the sound of a ticking clock.

She lay still, the covers pulled up to her chin, her body paralyzed by fear. The ticking of the clock had been omnipresent in her dream as well. She couldn't remember most of it, save for the rain and the cold, but it had to have been about the clock tower. She had few other memories to form dreams from.

Sometimes she did. Sometimes she would dream about lying on her back in the rain, surrounded by a ruined city as despair crushed down on her. Sometimes she dreamed that Gretchen was in danger from a threat that never fully revealed itself, and for some reason Homulilly could try to save her as many times as she wanted, that she could simply rewind the dream and try again, but every time she failed and Gretchen was taken away, no matter how hard she tried.

But mostly she dreamed of the clock tower, of being cold and scared and naked in the rain, of being bound to the massive clock hand by barbed wire, of slipping and falling into the abyss, and all the while the clock continued to tick away the seconds.

And every time she woke up, the clock still ticked on.

Homulilly slowly breathed out. It had been a few days since they had first arrived at the Freehaven Integration Bureau, a few days since they had been told the truth about their existence and where they were and why they were there, a few days since a world that made no sense had decided to continue to make no sense in a completely different way.

They were dead. They had been forced into becoming monsters that had fused into a single being, someone else had killed them, and now they were dead, and this was their afterlife: a seaside town inhabited by other monsters. Nothing about any of it made even the slightest bit of sense.

In the time since, she and Gretchen had tried to come to terms with their circumstances. They had met with that Dr. Cynthia, that therapist who was also a motorcycle, each day, as she had listened to their story, consoled them on how to deal with their pain, and told them what they wanted to know, and apparently she was doing the same with many of the other girls that had shown up with them.

But now that part was over. Today she and Gretchen were going to take the next step in their new "lives," if they could be called that. Today they were going to meet the other witches.

Sighing, Homulilly glanced over to her side. Gretchen was lying in her own bed, staring back at her.

The two of them silently held each other's gaze for a long moment. Then, as one, they both turned their eyes to the clock.

Homulilly slowed breathed out. As for Gretchen, she sat up, pushed her bedcovers out of the way, and loped her way over to the clock, the forest of wires she had for legs scurrying like octopus tentacles.

Gretchen picked up the clock and stuck it into a cabinet. That muffled the ticking, but didn't fully silence it. Frowning, she searched through all the cabinets and drawers until she found a towel. Opening the cabinet, she wrapped the clock in the towel, stuck it back into the cabinet, and closed the door, finally silencing it.

"We should look into getting a new clock," she said softly.

Homulilly merely laid her head back into her pillow and resumed staring up at the ceiling.

…

Even with the clock silenced, getting out of bed took a great deal of effort and coaxing from Gretchen. Homulilly would have frankly preferred to have just stayed bundled up, but once she was up, it was easier then to wash up and change.

The clothing that had been provided for them looked very much like a school uniform, consisting of a white blouse, white stockings, and a red skirt, red shoes, and a red tie. That made Homulilly a little uncomfortable, like she had been made to enroll in a boarding school without even knowing it.

At least the sleeves were long. Homulilly slipped the long purple velvet gloves she had been given and worked the sleeves of her blouse until they slid over them.

"Um…Homulilly-chan?"

Homulilly looked over to the bathroom. Gretchen was calling to her from within.

"Can you…help me please?"

"Um, with what?"

The door opened a crack, and Gretchen's hand hesitantly extended out. She was holding a pair of panties, though to be accurate, calling them a "pair" wouldn't be right. They had been specially made for her legs, having twelve tiny holes instead of two big ones.

"I still can't figure these out," Gretchen said, sounding quite embarrassed. "Could you…give me a hand?"

"Oh! Um, sure? What do you want me to do?"

"Just hold them up and open and get my legs in." Gretchen's wiry legs poked out through the crack. "And don't look!"

Honestly, Homulilly wasn't sure what all the fuss was about, seeing how it wasn't anything she hadn't already seen up close, but she acquiesced, holding the custom underwear up and open and helping Gretchen slip each one of her legs into the holes and thread them through.

"Thanks!" The legs and panties both hastily retreated back into the bathroom, and the door shut tight.

Moments later it opened again, and Gretchen came out wearing the same uniform as Homulilly, sans the stockings and gloves of course.

"This still feels weird," she said, giving the skirt a tug.

"I think it looks good on you!" Homulilly said encouragingly.

"Thanks, but I should probably ask them for a longer skirt. Or maybe special pants."

Homulilly looked her up and down and saw the problem. Gretchen's legs were so long that if she didn't spread them out in all directions she would tower over everyone else, which would accidentally give anyone nearby quite the view. "Maybe you can curl your legs up like springs?" she suggested.

Frowning, Gretchen tried to do just that, but her coordination was still off, and she almost lost her balance. "Oof! Maybe not."

"We'll get you something that works," Homulilly promised.

Moments later there was a gentle chime at the door, which made both of them jump. "Good morning," someone said from the other side. "You girls feeling up to breakfast?"

Homulilly and Gretchen exchanged looks. "Um, do we have to?" Homulilly asked. Gretchen shot her an odd look.

"Not if you don't want to. We can bring it to you if you like, and you can meet everyone else when you're ready."

Homulilly was sorely tempted to refuse. She remembered how ornery all the other girls had been during the orientation, and would rather not spend any more time with them than necessary.

Then Gretchen took her hand. "It's okay. We can do this."

Homulilly slowly breathed out. "Well. Okay."

…

The caretaker who had knocked on the door escorted them to where they would have breakfast with the other witches. Apparently there was a large cafeteria for everyone that they would be using for meals once they had settled in, but until then meals would be held in a smaller area. Despite everyone's kind words and promises that they were just there to help, Homulilly felt distinctly uncomfortable about…well, everything. Uniforms. A communal cafeteria. Earlier she had felt like she was stuck in a boarding school, but now she wondered if it were more like prison. Were they even allowed to leave?

Gretchen had figured out a way to curl up her legs so that she and Homulilly were the same height without taking up the entire hallway, though it was difficult to walk like that, so they took the journey slow, walking hand-in-hand. Homulilly kept glancing this way and that, focusing on any sudden movement and sound. It was nerve-wracking.

The interior of the Freehaven Integration Bureau was…well, nice. It was decorated very much like an old, fancy seaside house, with a lot of whitewashed walls decorated with sea-colored mosaics and hanging plants. The hallways were all wide and airy, and windows and skylights kept everything well-lit by sunlight, and the carpets were so thick that their footsteps made no sound at all.

Homulilly stretched out her hand and ran her fingers across the wall as they walked. Even through the glove she could feel the roughness of the whitewashed stone, the cool smoothness of the mosaic tiles. It all felt so real.

Were they really…dead? Was this really the afterlife? Parts certainly seemed strange enough to be so, but others were so normal feeling that it was really hard to tell.

With none of her memories remaining, Homulilly really didn't know what she had once expected the afterlife to look and feel like, but just the thought conjured very specific images in her mind, mostly involving someplace in the sky with lots of clouds and sunshine, someplace where the gods interacted with mortals and no one would ever know grief, pain, or want again.

Well, none of that was clearly true. Homulilly had already experienced all three in abundance, while she had met many monsters, she had yet to see any gods.

She flexed her hand, feeling the fingers curl beneath the glove. The fact that they were nothing but bones told her that she was definitely somewhere supernatural, and kind of horrid. But she didn't _feel_ different! Her skin still responded to touch, she could taste food and smell everything from the salty air outside to the air conditioning inside. She still got itches, she still hurt when pricked, she still experienced everything like she was alive! Didn't dying and moving onto the afterlife mean ascending to some kind of new existence? Wasn't she supposed to become something _more_ than human? An angel, a ghost, a spirit, something?

Well, she certainly had, except she had become a monster. Gretchen had said that she shouldn't hide how she looked, but quite frankly the sight of the skeletal horrors her shoulders, arms, and hands had become filled her with revulsion. She could deal with the flower. Sure, it was weird to have it growing out of her head, but compared to everything else, she could get used to it.

Though speaking of which, did she now have to take care of it? Did she have to water it or something? Did she now have to be careful about shampooing her hair? Homulilly reached up to touch it.

As soon as her fingers touched the spider-lily's petals, she _felt_ the tickling brush, felt the flower shiver. Oh wow, so it really was part of her. That was…odd.

She moved her hand down, feeling in deeper, hoping to learn more about her new ornament. She felt around the petals until she found the base. And then…

"Um…" she said.

Gretchen looked at her in concern. "Is something wrong, Homulilly-chan?"

"My flower. It has _roots!"_

Gretchen frowned. "I don't get it. Don't all flowers have roots?"

"Yeah, but they're digging into my head!" Homulilly lifted the petals and parted her hair to show her. "See?"

Gretchen leaned in close. "Oh wow, they are! Neat!"

Homulilly wished she had her enthusiasm. "Should I be worried about this? I mean, is it going to…suck my blood or something?"

The caretaker escorting them laughed. "No more than any other part of your body. Don't worry, your flower is as much a part of you as your nose."

"Oh. Um, should…take care of it? Do I need to water it?"

"Seems pretty healthy to me." The caretaker patted her on the shoulder. "Tell you what: later on today, when the doctor's come for your examinations, you can ask her about that."

"Oh, that's right!" Gretchen held up a couple of her legs and wiggled them. "Can I get some kind of special pants for these? So I don't end up, um, flashing everything whenever I stand up straight?"

"I'll make sure you get them by the end of the day," the caretaker promised.

The place she took them was a very nice room, with an open pyramidal skylight overhead and a small indoor garden hugging the walls. Two fish-shaped fountains were in the far corners of the room, and a white-trunked tree with a wide canopy was growing in the center of the room. There were several tables set up on one side, while the other had a collection of couches and chairs arranged in a circle, presumably where their group session was going to take place.

And in the room were the other witches.

Homulilly remembered most of them from the orientation. Like Gretchen and herself, they looked pretty human for the most part, like just a bunch of young girls from various parts of the world, all dressed in the same grey-and-red uniforms.

But no one would mistake this group for just another gathering of high and middle schoolers, because also just like Gretchen and herself, they were all monstrous in different ways, some with strange additions to their bodies, and others having entire pieces of their anatomy…changed in ways that ought not be possible.

Seeing them, Homulilly quailed a little, as she had both.

There was something of a buffet set up on a couple of plastic folding tables. That was odd. Given how pleasant the rest of the room was, that little piece of mundane presentation certainly stood out. Still, the breakfast it offered looked pretty good, with trays offering everything from eggs and bacon to fruit to hash brows to cereal to little pastries to just about anything else. And as everyone else had already gotten theirs, Homulilly followed Gretchen to pick out breakfast.

Despite the variety of options, Homulilly just went with some fruit, jam on toast, and a cup of apple juice, while Gretchen chose a bowl of oatmeal. Neither were all that hungry.

As they sat down together, Homulilly nervously looked around. Apparently, she and Gretchen were among the few who were actually sitting together, as most of the others had put a healthy distance between themselves and the other girls. She saw a lot of suspicious glances and looking over shoulders. Clearly nobody knew what to make of anyone else, and wasn't ready to trust anyone.

Then she heard a small commotion. Looking over, she saw the girl that had scared everyone by removing her own head during the orientation, who had short, spiky reddish-orange hair and a sharp nose, had once again removed her own head and set it down on the table next to her breakfast. It just sat there as her now headless body nonchalantly fed it spoonfuls of cereal. And judging by the smirk on her face, she was very much aware of the effect she was having on people, and was enjoying it quite a lot.

Homulilly hastily looked away. Wow, that had been…weird. And disturbing. Which really did seem to be the way things worked around here.

"Where does it go?" Gretchen murmured.

"Huh?"

"The food. When she puts it in her mouth. Where does it go? It can't get to her stomach. Does it just fall out of her neck and hit the table?"

Homulilly gagged.

"Sorry," Gretchen said. "I guess it is pretty gross." Then she frowned. "Do you think we still have stomachs?"

Homulilly looked at her barely-touched breakfast. It was a good point, albeit one she didn't like thinking about. If they were dead, then why did they need food in the first place? Plus, both of them had already used the bathroom a few times since arriving, so that would imply some kind of digestion. Did they still need it to live?

And more to the point…could they die? Again?

"I guess we could ask someone," Homulilly said.

"It's so weird," Gretchen sighed. "Everything about this place is so weird."

Homulilly had no arguments to that. It seemed around every corner was something incredibly mundane mixed with something incredibly strange.

And as if to further compound that point, one of the other witches chose that moment to approach the pair.

"Hey there!" she said with a friendly wave. She had a distinct American accent of some kind and was taller than most of the other girls, and considerably more muscular. She had had very short white hair that was shaved down at the sides and bright blue eyes.

Eight of them, to be exact: two normal, human eyes and three smaller ones circling around each of the big ones.

She was a spider, or at least parts of her were. In addition to the eyes, she also had eight huge tarantula legs that stuck out of her back and curved around her like fleshless wings, and a pair of prominent fangs that stuck out of her mouth, giving her a very slight lisp. It was very disconcerting to look at.

But despite her frightening appearance, the other girl didn't seem at all shy. In fact, she seemed to be quite excited to meet them. "Just figured I'd go around meeting everyone," she said. "Since we're going to be spending a lot of time together, I figured I might as well learn everyone's names!"

Then she glanced down and her face brightened. "Oh, hey!" she said, pointing at Gretchen's legs. "You got kind of the same thing I got going on! Well, okay, maybe not the exact same thing, seeing how yours are all where, you know, legs go, and I still got my regular legs and all my new legs are on my back for some reason, but hey, can't have too many legs, am I right?

Homulilly winced. Already this little meet-and-greet was off to a bad start.

Oddly though, Gretchen didn't seem offended. "I know, right?" Gretchen said as she lifted some of her legs and twisted them into a corkscrew. "They're so handy! It's like having twelve more arms whenever I need them!"

"Wow! That's even more useful than mine! I can's twist mind around like that. Still, being able to run up walls and hang on ceilings is pretty nifty." She wiggled her back legs, which made Homulilly's insides squirm. "Anyway, I'm Lindy. Well, I'm actually Linda, but that sounds too old-fashioned, but you can call me Lindy!"

Lindy stuck out her hand, just as Gretchen was politely inclining her head, almost causing her to bonk her forehead on Lindy's wrist. The two of them froze.

"Ooooh, right!" Lindy said. "You're, uh, uh, give me a second I know this, Japanese! You're Japanese, right? You do that bowing thing!"

"Um, yes!" Gretchen said, quickly raising her head and grasping Lindy's big hand to give it a friendly shake. "We do!"

"Cool!" Lindy said with an enthusiastic and much-too-deep bow of her own. "I'm from Colorado…which is in America! Well, I'm pretty sure I'm from Colorado, since most of the stuff I know is from Colorado, even if I don't actually remember _living_ there. Hey, isn't it weird how we remember all this stuff from where we're from but absolutely nothing about who we are?"

"You too?" Gretchen said.

"Yeah, it's so weird! It's like, I am from Colorado but I'm not from Colorado." She shrugged. "So, I guess I'm just from _here_ now, whatever here is. Hey, you have a flower! That's neat. What kind is it?"

Given how hard she was trying not to attract attention while silently wishing that the boisterous arachnid would just go away, Homulilly didn't register that Lindy was talking to her directly, until Gretchen stealthily elbowed her in the side.

"Oh! Um, huh?"

"Oh, did I startle you?" Lindy said. "Sorry. Just wanted to know what kind of flower that is."

"Oh, er…" Homulilly's hands instinctively reached up to touch the petals. "It's a spider-lily."

"A spider-lily?" This bit of information seemed to thrill Lindy to no end. "Hey, that's great! My kind of flower!" She wiggled her back legs again, sending multiple chills down Homulilly's back.

Lindy must have noticed her expression, as she stopped immediately. "Oh wow, was that weird? I'm sorry, I'm still trying to figure out what's weird and what isn't weird, and it's kinda hard to do when everything's, you know, _really_ weird."

"It's fine! It's fine!" Gretchen said. "And I think your legs are really cool!"

Lindy beamed. "Aw, thanks! Well, I'm going to go score some more danishes before they're all gone. Nice to meet you guys!"

"She's nice," Gretchen remarked as Lindy went back to the buffet. "I like her!"

Homulilly didn't respond. She just put the rest of her now very unwanted breakfast aside and buried her face in her velvet-covered hands. She prayed that the rest of their day wasn't as awkward as that exchange had been.

…

Things did not get less awkward.

Breakfast was done and put away, and now Homulilly sat next to Gretchen on one of the couches that were part of the circle. Dr. Cynthia, who seemed to be the one in charge of their group, sat where the two halves came together.

The rest of the witches sat at various places along the circle, some of them together, others keeping a healthy distance from anyone else, while still others didn't seem to care one bit who was close to them. Still, Homulilly noticed that nobody else was holding hands like she and Gretchen were. Whether that meant that they were the only ones who were friends or simply because there were no other Walpurgisnachts she neither knew nor felt it was her place to act.

It was quiet. Nobody seemed to know what to make of everyone else. A few seemed a little fearful of the others, even if they were all just as strange-looking as everyone else. Only a small handful, such as Lindy and a couple of others, seemed happy to be there.

Homulilly couldn't blame those who were apprehensive. Though there were others that were more obviously…weird, she would probably be the freakiest one if she wasn't wearing her gloves. She hoped nobody had taken notice of her during the orientation.

Dr. Cynthia looked around and cleared her throat. "Good morning, girls."

A few muttered good morning back. Most didn't. Only a small handful, Gretchen and Lindy among them, said it with any real sincerity.

"Now, despite our talks, I know you all still have a great many questions," Dr. Cynthia continued. "And you haven't had much chance to interact. So this is going to be our chance to introduce ourselves and get to know one another a little, as well as try to answer any other questions you might have. But there is no rush. You don't have to talk if you don't want to. But if you would like to ask something, it would help to first introduce yourself to the rest of the group first. And if you don't have any questions but would still like to let us know a little about yourself, that's fine too. Take your time." She looked around. "So, would anyone like to go first?"

There was a pause, and then, to nobody's surprise, the strangely chipper Lindy stood up.

"Hey, everyone!" she said. "I already went around the room and met you all, but hey, might as well kick things off. I'm Linda, but I'd really like it if you just called me Lindy. And I'm part spider, which, okay, may sound kind of gross, but seeing how I can literally run up walls and stick to ceilings, I'm not really complaining. Plus, you would not _believe_ my depth perception. Like, wow. You know how when you go to see a 3D movie, and everything just jumps out at you when you put those weird little glasses on? Well, imagine that feeling, only it's all of the time! Kind of disorienting at first, actually. But hey, I'm getting used to it. Anyway, glad to meet you all!"

She sat down. Dr. Cynthia smiled.

"Thank you, Lindy! And welcome to the Freehaven Integration Bureau. Anyone else?"

At the very least Lindy's friendly introduction had cracked the ice a little. There was a pause, and then a dark-skinned girl with cotton-candy blue hair and eyes cleared her throat and said in a strong French accent, "Okay, so, let's get this straight. How-"

"Your name please, dear," Dr. Cynthia said.

The French girl rolled her eyes. "Fine. Hi, everyone!" she said in an overly chipper tone. "My name is Gabrielle! And I, _apparently,_ am a whole-ass hat shop!" She had on a bright blue hat with a wide brim and a large white bow, while lacy ribbons and bows seemed to be woven directly into the skin of her arms and the back of her neck. Homulilly was fairly certain that the hat was as much a part of the French girl's head as her spider-lily was of hers.

"Hi, Gabrielle," a small handful of the other girls said, drawing some laughs.

"Hello, Gabrielle," Dr. Cynthia said. "What's your question?"

Gabrielle sighed. "So anyway, we're witches. That means we used to be human like those other girls, and we had these things called soul gems that literally contained our souls, but then the soul gems got too, um, corrupted, and that turned us into these mindless monsters, and so other magical girls killed us, and that's what sent us to this Wonderland, and why we don't remember anything and look like this?"

Dr. Cynthia nodded. "That essentially is correct."

Gabrielle's forehead crinkled. "Okay. So, how do we change back? How do we get our memories back?"

"It's not quite that simple," Dr. Cynthia said.

"Okay, fine. We have to do something dangerous and complicated. What is it and where do we start?"

"I don't think we do," said the girl with the removeable head. She had her head on and was sitting with her legs drawn up and folded in one of the chairs. "I think this is it. We're stuck like this." Then she looked around. "Oh yeah. Hi, my name is Lucy. I can go all Headless Horseman. It's pretty sweet."

Gabrielle scowled. "You don't know that."

"Uh, yes I do? I've done it tons of times. Watch, I'll show you!" Lucy took her head off and started waving it around like a jack-o'-lantern. "Eh? Eh? Pretty cool, huh?"

"Stop that!" cried a short-haired brunette, one with a German accent.

Lucy stared. "Why?"

"Because it's weird!"

Lucy scowled and held her head under her arm like it was a basketball. "Mate, you are literally made out of paperclips."

Which wasn't fully true, as she merely had several chains of paperclips woven into her skin, but even so, it was a pretty rude thing to say as far as Homulilly was concerned, and the German paperclip girl seemed to agree, given how pale her face went.

Gabrielle rolled her eyes. "Anyway, what I _meant_ was, you don't know that we're stuck like this. Also, put your head back on!"

"Ugh." Lucy stuck her head back onto her shoulders and folded her arms in a pout. "Fine."

"Thank you," Gabrielle said icily. "And I don't care what you say. Nothing's gone forever. There's _always_ a way."

A heavy silence fell. Homulilly squeezed her legs together and wished she was somewhere else.

Then one of the more eye-catching girls spoke. She…well, it was hard to tell exactly what she was. Her skin was pale and glossy, almost plasticine. Her neck was weirdly elongated and thin, and her head seemed to be in two pieces. The back of her head, on which her hair, which was short, black, and curly, was… _attached_ , for lack of a better word, seemed to be a sheath for her face, which in turn seemed to be painted onto a perfectly round ball, which turned this way and that freely. However, her face was fully animated, and had a look of absolute irritation and mild disgust. "So, hey," she said, her arms crossed, her voice thick with disdain. "I'm Vendel, I guess. I don't know what I am exactly, or what the deal with my face is, so don't bother to ask. So okay, finding out about our old names or whatever is supposed to be super bad, right?"

"Yes, unfortunately that is true," Dr. Cynthia said.

"All right. So, like, what's the worst that can happen?"

Suddenly short, stocky girl, this one an Indian with pale purple hair that were curled into two circular buns, started bouncing in her seat and waved her hand around. "Oh! Oh! I know this one! It drives us insane, right?" Her voice was very energetic, with a distinctive nasal tone.

Dr. Cynthia looked a little taken back by her enthusiasm. "That is-"

"Oh! Right." The purple-haired girl waved to everyone else. "Hello! I'm Iris, and I'm apparently a tape player that's hooked up to _myself!"_ She lifted her hair buns with both hands to show that they were indeed also a pair of headphones, from which trailed a pair of aux cords that seemed to plug into the small of her back. Also, now that Homulilly was paying attention, she saw that Iris's eyes were cassette spools. _"_ So I can play whatever song I want at any time! Unfortunately, no one can hear it except for me, and I don't really know a whole lot of songs what with my memories being gone, but that just means I can learn more to fill it up! Oh, and speaking of which, you do have music here, right?"

"Yes, we do," Dr. Cynthia said with an amused smile. "Quite a lot."

Iris leaned forward, hands clenched in excitement. "Any of it extraterrestrial?"

"Why, yes. Other species have their own kinds of music, and many new genres have been created from them meeting."

Iris's spool-eyes whirred. "Fascinating!"

Vendel groaned loudly. "Yeah, okay, that is, like, really interesting and all, but let's get back to the whole 'going crazy' thing. Now, you told me that if we so happen to run into someone that knows us and they start trying to get us to remember junk, it can be, like, really bad for us, right?"

"Once or twice shouldn't be too much of a problem," Dr. Cynthia said. "But the more they do it-"

A dusky-skinned Hispanic girl who had hair that was very eye-catching, in that it was floating in a manner that suggested zero gravity _and_ constantly pulsing every color of the rainbow, suddenly gasped. "Oh. My God. Is that why you said I couldn't be around Heather anymore?"

"Just for now," Dr. Cynthia assured her. "You'll be with her again when it's safe."

This did little to assure the rainbow girl. "Um, okaaayyyy, but she already, you know, called me by my old name a bunch of times." She looked down at her hands as her voice got smaller. "And it did kind of make head twitch, so…"

Dr. Cynthia leaned over to place her hand over the girl's. "Don't worry. It's not nearly as dangerous when you first arrive. Lots of girls arrive with friends who go through that too. It doesn't become really risky until a few years in."

Vendel wrinkled her nose. "Uh, did I miss something? Who's 'Heather'?

"Oh. Right." The rainbow girl cleared her throat. "Uh, hi! Nice to meet you, everyone! My name is Lillian, and I…well, my hair is always doing that for some reason. And Heather was apparently my best friend and the one who killed me after I became a witch! And I apparently killed her too, so we…both showed up together! And I was trapped inside a giant boiling lava lamp and she wasn't!" She shivered. "Also, I was naked and she wasn't, so that also happened…"

Lucy, who had been sulking quietly to herself, suddenly sat up straight. "Wait, seriously? You're telling me that they _weren't_ naked and getting tortured when they arrived? I was literally having my head swatted around by machines in a batting cage! How is _that_ fair?"

There was a pause, and suddenly several people were talking at once, most to yell objections to the unfairness of their situation while others tried to get them to calm down. For her part, Dr. Cynthia didn't seem at all perturbed by this, as if she had expected things to break down at some point.

Suddenly, so swiftly that it took Homulilly completely by surprise, Gretchen stood up! "Um, hi!" she said loudly.

That quieted everyone down, in part by how unexpected it was, but also because Gretchen was now standing at twice everyone else's height, save perhaps for Lindy. Realizing this, Gretchen winced and slowly lowered herself to a more traditional height. "My name is Kriemhild Gretchen, but you can all just call me Gretchen," she said. "And this is my friend Homulilly!" Homulilly winced at the unwanted attention but managed a weak wave. "And okay. I know things are really weird and scary right now, but we're all kind of weird and scary, so we fit right in! I mean, this place apparently has…magic, and friendly aliens, everyone's been so nice and helpful, so I think that, if we all try to get along and become friends, then we'll be okay!"

Vendel made a face. "Uh, that's great and all, but it doesn't really change the fact that we got the short end of the stick here. Like, all the girls who didn't like turn into witches get to keep all their memories and names and _don't_ look like a bunch of B-movie rejects and _didn't_ spend their first hour or so in incredible amounts of pain."

"Plus they apparently have to be taught _not_ to hate and want to kill us, this seems kind of unfair to me," Lillian agreed.

"I don't know," said a Canadian girl that hadn't spoken yet, one with short green hair and streetlights for eyes, ones that were now softly shining green but had previously been yellow. "Um, hey, I guess. I'm Claudia, and…I don't know, I'm an intersection or something. Anyway, I've been doing a lot of thinking since we all got here, and when you really, really think about it, we're…kind of the lucky ones?" She had tiny street signs for fingernails. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I woke up getting buried in asphalt, so that was really bad! And yeah, I'd really like to know who my family was or what my life was like or even what my name used to be, but…" She took a deep breath, and the light of her eyes started to warm into pink. "Okay, yesterday, did anyone notice how all the non-witches were the ones most scared or crying or…you know, stuff? I mean, sure, I was scared too, but I was more interested than anything, and at least I'm not going to be waking up every day thinking about my family and friends and how I'm never going to see them again. I don't know, I just think that things are only worse for us at the beginning, but now that we're past that, I think things will be easier for us than it will be for them."

"That is all very true," Dr. Cynthia said, finally choosing her moment to step in. "Girls, I am not going to minimize what all of you went at all. Believe me, I went through the same thing, being held suspended by steel chains and gradually lowered onto spinning wheels, and it was _horrible._ But you know what? It didn't take long for me to notice that I and the other witches were having a much easier time adjusting than the Puella Magi. Because as much as I would have wanted to know my name or who my family was, not having those memories meant I wasn't yearning to return to something I could never have back. I didn't remember my death, nor was I wracked with guilt over all the witches I must have fought and killed. This is the only life I've ever known. But them? They remember. They remember the names and faces of their loved ones. They remember hunting witches, hunting _us,_ without knowing that were used to be just like them. They remember how they died. And that sort of thing just sticks with you."

Everyone fell silent as they all tried to digest that. Homulilly wondered what it would be like to be in their position, to constantly be longing after someone you could never see again, to have all your hopes and dreams now mean nothing, to have everything you had ever worked for now rendered pointless.

She felt that she could sympathize, but not by much. At least they weren't monsters.

"Okay," Vendel said at last. "But they are, like, literally getting taught not to kill us."

"Yeah, wasn't it their job to kill us?" Lucy said. "What if they don't stop?"

"They won't. Even if any of them try, we'll be there to stop them.

Vendel scowled. "So you're saying some have tried before."

"Just about every problem you can think of has happened at one point or another," Dr. Cynthia said. "But we do have things well in hand. We've helped generations of girls like you and them settle in, and you have nothing to fear from them.

"Well, I for one can't wait to meet them!" Lindy said.

"That's the spirit!" Dr. Cynthia said. "And it won't be long before you're friends with them too. You are, after all, classmates."

"Whoa, hey, hold up!" Lucy said, sitting up straight so quickly that her head almost popped off on its own. Straightening it, she said, "Classmates? As if in, _school?_ We still have to go to school?! But we're dead! You shouldn't have to still go to school after you're dead!"

Dr. Cynthia smiled. "You're only dead on Earth. Here, you are very much alive, and as you can see, we have a city where people have friends, job, hobbies, hopes and dreams. And that means learning about how things work here. And that means an education."

"Oh!" Iris was practically bouncing in her seat. "Do we get to learn about the aliens?"

"Of course," Dr. Cynthia said. "And in time you'll be able to meets some."

"Yes!"

Gretchen cleared her throat. "Um, does that also mean, you know, math?"

"I'm afraid we still have numbers here, so yes."

At this, Vendel let out the longest, deepest, most irritated groan imaginable. She slumped in her chair, her elongated neck bending all the way back, allowing her to stare sullenly at the wall behind her. "This is the _worst!"_ she moaned. _"_ This is Hell. We went to Hell. It has to be Hell!"

…

"Well, that was a lot of fun!" Gretchen remarked. The meet-and-greet was over, and the two of them were back in their dorm to rest up. Later on, the doctor would be coming to give them an examination, and then they would be taking a tour of the facility. "I liked them. Didn't you?"

Homulilly didn't answer. She just sat on her bed and hugged herself.

Even through the velvet gloves she could feel the hard bones.

"Homulilly?"

Homulilly started to shake. It started off small, just a little shiver, but it grew, and grew, and grew until she was trembling violently. She felt sick.

"Homulilly!"

Gretchen was immediately at her side and holding her close, one arm around her shoulders while the other stroked her hair. "It's okay," she whispered. "It's okay. I'm here. You're safe. It's okay. Just breathe, okay?"

It took some time, but Homulilly gradually started to calm down, to breath a little easier and keep from shaking. The sick feeling started to pass.

"Will you be okay?"

No. No, she wasn't. She was dead and she was a monster, and no number of pretty rooms and group therapy sessions was going to change that.

But still, she did have Gretchen holding her, which was enough for now. Homulilly nodded. "Yes," she whispered. "Thank you."

"Was it the clock tower? Did you have a flashback?"

Homulilly shook her head.

"Was it the other witches? Did they scare you?"

Well, honestly they did a little, but that also wasn't it.

"I'm just…scared," Homulilly whispered. "Not of them. Not really. Just of…"

"You're just scared," Gretchen finished for her.

Homulilly nodded. "How are you not? How are you so brave?"

Gretchen sighed. "I'm…well, I'm really not. And there's a lot that scares me too. But it's not, you know, how weird everyone looks now or that there's aliens or even us being dead. I'm scared that this…that all this…"

"Isn't real?" Homulilly said.

"Yeah. I mean, I keep thinking…what if this is a trick? What if this is just another way to torture us? What if we go to sleep tonight and when we wake up, we'll be back on that clock?"

Homulilly cast a glance over at the drawer where Gretchen had stashed the ticking clock. It presumably was still ticking to itself in the darkness.

"Anyway, I know it's silly, but it's…hard to fall asleep because of it."

Homulilly sighed. "Same here."

"But you know what?" Gretchen parted enough so that they could look at one another. "Every time I start to get scared or freaked out, you know what makes me feel better?"

Confused, Homulilly shook her head.

"Seeing you by my side. Because I know you're real." Gretchen grinned. "And if you're with me, well, then there's nothing I can't face!"

"Me?" Homulilly scrunched up her face. "But…I'm more scared than you are!"

"Well, then that just makes me feel better about being scared then!" Gretchen took Homulilly's hands in hers and squeezed them tightly. "But I'm always going to be with you too. And I'll be brave for both of us if you need me too."

Homulilly sniffed. Tears welled up, and she threw her arms around Gretchen. Thank God, if God was to thank, that she had Gretchen in her life. Because she didn't know what she would do without her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: any resemblance that new characters might have (appearance, personality, or both) to characters from another show with a female-heavy cast, magic, transformations, and lots of lesbian energy is…entirely intentional and I am not apologizing.
> 
> …
> 
> I had writer's block, okay?


	6. Settling In, Part 2

The Freehaven Integration Bureau was an old complex, one that sat near the top of the seaside hill on which Freehaven had been built. It was designed along similar lines to the rest of the town: white walls, red rooftops, and arching windows, as well as several tall towers with tiered roofs, but from what Homulilly and Gretchen could see from their window, most of Freehaven's buildings were squarish, tall, and clustered close together, with very narrows streets in-between, so narrow that motor vehicles were an almost unknown luxury.

In sharp contrast, the FIB complex was open and airy, with plenty of space between its various facilities, which in turn were more long and rectangular rather than tall and square, with the towers rising up at the corners. And it had an extensive outdoor area, complete with multiple courts devoted to several kinds of sports, a very large playground, a fairly lush garden, an open field, and a lake.

It was all very pretty and very comfortable, but as Homulilly walked along with the rest of the witches for the grand tour, she found herself wishing that she was somewhere else, _anywhere_ else.

"And here we have the gymnasium!" Dr. Cynthia declared as she opened another door and led their party through. She was the one leading the tour, accompanied by a couple of the other witch caretakers who had introduced themselves as Gwen and Bernadette. Gwen was shorter and huskier than most, with short silver hair and a literal roadmap printed on her skin and tiny compasses for eyes, while Bernadette was tall and lanky, with long, straight grey hair and limbs that seemed to be completely made out of rubber, judging by how strangely they bent when she moved.

The girls stopped and stared at the wonder before them. A couple of them audibly oohed and ahed.

The gymnasium turned out to be a multi-story room, with several platforms raised at varying heights above the ground, which in turn were connected by staircases and walkways. The platforms all seemed to be geared toward a different kind of activity each.

"As you can see, we're equipped for virtually every athletic contest you can think of," Dr. Cynthia said as she led them onto the platform connecting to the door they had entered through. Homulilly hesitated before going in, but Gretchen seemed excited to see, so she reluctantly let herself be pulled along.

The first platform seemed to be made up of four green courts, separated by short, waist-high walls. "This one is for either tennis or volleyball," Dr. Cynthia continued. She went to what looked like a small computer screen along the wall and tapped it. A short tennis net rose up out of the ground. She tapped it again, and it raised itself to volleyball height. "Don't worry about accidentally knocking any balls out of bounds." She picked up a tennis ball from a nearby container and hurled it at the wall. A green, transparent hexagon appeared in the air, blocking it and sending it bouncing back.

"A forcefield!" Marty said, the paperclips on her neck uncurling in excitement.

"Exactly!"

"Oh yeah," Brittney said, eagerly rubbing her scaled hands together. "Now this is the kind of weird I can get behind!"

Apparently the forcefield didn't block people from passing through, as Lucy immediately raced all the way to the edge and started looking around. "Wow!" she said as she leaned forward, surveying the various platforms. "You even got an ice-skating rink!"

"Wait, really?" Linda said, her eyes and legs all perking up. "Ice-skating? Huh. You know, I never tried ice-skating. Well, I mean, as far as I know I never tried ice-skating. So I guess I could have tried ice-skating before, but with things the way they are, how would I know, am I right?"

Lucy leaned in further. "Where's the basketball court?" she said.

"On the level above you," Dr. Cynthia told her.

"Oooh, can we go see it?"

Vendel shot her a stink-eye. "You're just, like, gonna dunk your own head, aren't you?"

"Maaaaybeeee." Lucy leaned even further out, now looking down. "Oh, wow! The bottom floor's the pool! And it's _huge!"_

Though Homulilly did not wish to contribute to the conversation in any way, shape, or form, the was Lucy was bending further and further against her center of gravity was making her incredibly anxious. "Look out!" she cried.

Unfortunately, that proved to be a bad idea, as the surprise made Lucy lose her balance. "Huh? Hey!"

Someone screamed as Lucy started to pitch forward, milliseconds away from a disastrous tumble.

Then she stopped.

More of the glowing hexagons appeared at a slant beneath her, and fortunately these ones _did_ stop people. She blinked, and then her head slid off her shoulders, rolling across open air with more hexagons appearing beneath it to come to rest back on the platform.

"Uh, okay," she said, gingerly standing up and crawling back onto the platform. She leaned over to grab onto her head and put it under her arm. "That was…weird." Then she grinned. "And so cool!" She reared back to hurl her head into the air, only for Dr. Cynthia to grab her arm and pull her back.

"Let's…not play with the protective fields," Dr. Cynthia said. "That's not what they're there for."

"What are they though?" Iris said, her headphone cords curling up with excitement. "Magic?"

"Not magic. As you know, several species other than humans were also contacted by the Incubators, some of them quite technologically advanced, and they brought that knowledge with them. We all have learned much from each other."

Iris's cassette tape eyes suddenly whirred at high speed. "Technology? _Alien_ technology?"

"Yes."

"Aaaahhhhhhhhh…" Bubbling with excitement, Iris did a little dance in place before rushing for the edge. _"Fascinating,"_ she cooed as she touched her hands to the force field.

"Come on!" Gretchen said, tugging at Homulilly's hand.

"Gretchen, I-"

But Gretchen was already moving, and Homulilly had no choice but to follow.

They joined the rest of the girls, all whom seemed just as enthralled with the force field as they were with the many athletic amenities available to them.

"Cool…" Gretchen said as she poked the air with her legs, causing green honeycombs to form.

Gulping, Homulilly crept up to the ledge and looked down. It was…much higher of a drop than even she had feared. And sure, there was a very large pool at the bottom, but if anything it only made things scarier, as the deep end seemed _way_ too deep for her.

Over by the door, Dr. Cynthia clapped her hands. "Come on, girls! We still have lots to see!"

Lots to see. Lots to see. As Homulilly followed Gretchen and the others to the door, she made a mental change to her wish. She didn't want to be anywhere else. She wanted to be in a very specific locations: back at her room, with Gretchen, away from everybody else, away from really big rooms, away from other people that scared her, away from everything.

…

The FIB's botanical gardens were surprisingly large and varied, and though Homulilly still wanted to go back to her and Gretchen's room, she did perk up a little once they entered.

It was very much like a jungle, albeit one with well-ordered paths, individual flowerbeds, and placards describing the plants they were seeing. Tropical trees stretched their vine-covered branches overhead, palms swayed in the gentle breeze, and exotic flowers spread their petals among the vibrant green ferns. Almost as if in response to its brethren, Homulilly felt the spider-lily on her head open fully.

"The McNally Gardens, so named for one of the facility's original proprietors, is one of my favorite places on the grounds," Dr. Cynthia said as she led the group down the path. "We have five distinct biomes represented here: tropical, temperate forest, savannah, temperate grassland, and arid, with conditions from each fully replicated to create thriving ecosystems."

"Oh, it's wonderful!" Lillian exclaimed, clapping her hands together. Her luminescent hair was now pulsing forest greens, deep blues, and bright scarlets. "And we can go here whenever we wish?"

"So long as you don't skip class to do so, yes."

"And we can do whatever we want?"

"The gardens are here for your benefit," Dr. Cynthia said. She paused, and then added, "Though please don't do anything rash like trying to set the trees on fire. You'll fail, and probably wind up in detention." That got a laugh.

"It's so pretty," Gretchen said as she and Homulilly stopped to admire several sapphire-colored orchids. "We have to come here when we have time!"

Homulilly hesitated, and then nodded. This place at least wasn't so bad.

Suddenly Linda called out to them, "Oh, hey! Homulilly and Gretchen, right? Check this out!"

Homulilly winced. Did she really have to call attention to them?

Gretchen, however, wasn't bothered. "Come on!" she said, tugging on Homulilly's hand, and Homulilly reluctantly allowed herself to be pulled along.

The big spider girl was standing in front of a bed of bright scarlet flowers. "Aren't these the same kind of flowers that you have?" she said, pointing at them.

They were indeed spider-lilies, and several of them too, covering a portion of the forest with a bed of scarlet.

Homulilly sighed. "Yes, those are them. Those are spider-lilies."

"Nice!" Linda folded her muscular arms across her chest. "You know, I feel that spiders get a real bad rep. I know, people think that we're ugly and gross, but I say, well, if that was true, then why'd they name such a pretty flower after us, am I right?"

"That a cool way of looking at it," piped in Amirah, an Arabic girl who had buttons for eyes and more buttons sewn into rows down her arms and fingers. "I mean, most spiders are actually harmless, and do a lot of good by eating pests, right?"

"See? You get it!" Linda said, clapping Amirah on the back and making her stumble. "You know, I think it's kind of like us witches too. I mean, sure, we look a little weird, but we're all really nice people! So I'm sure all those Puella Magi will just love us when they get to know us!"

"That's a very lovely thought, Lindy-chan," Gretchen said. "I hope you're right."

Linda beamed. "Lindy-chan! I like that! Makes me feel like I'm from, oh, I don't know, Sailor Moon or something. Which I guess I kind of was, now that I think about it. Hey, do you think we had the cool outfits with the sparkly weapons?"

"I bet we did! You know, there was this big, pink bow with roses growing out of it where I woke up. That might have been it!"

"You know, I bet you're right! And come to think of it, there was this really big hammer hanging around where I woke up. Maybe that was mine!"

"Probably!"

Then Linda frowned. "Of course, it was swinging back and forth on a chain and kept hitting me hard enough to make something crack."

Gretchen winced. "Yeah, and my bow was choking me."

Amirah straightened out her shoulder where Linda had smacked it with a popping sound. "I had a glaive," she said. "It was spinning like a buzzsaw and, well…"

It got very uncomfortable and quiet after that, which was kind of a relief to Homulilly, who had been walking around in a sulky silence all day. She thought back to her own awakening, when she had been naked and strapped to a giant clock face by barbed wire. Her own weapon had probably been that metal disc that had bound her wrists together. How a disc was supposed to be a weapon, she didn't know. But she kind of wished that she had held onto it. It was the last thing that had belonged to her former self, after all.

Then Linda cleared her throat and said in a loud voice, "So! Are there any animals here?"

Dr. Cynthia, who had been talking to Vendel and Iris, turned toward her. "Not intentionally, no," she said. "It's not a zoo, after all. However, Freehaven does have a few wild animals living in it, and quite a few have been known to pass through the gardens."

"Oh yeah? What kind?"

"Mostly wild cats and birds. Plus, there's a few pets that their owners let roam free that come by to hang out."

Suddenly Brittney thrust a finger in the air. "Hey, look! A parrot!"

"Yes, we actually get a lot of those," Dr. Cynthia said. "There are quite a few wild parrot flocks living in Freehaven, and several have been known to nest here. Also, there's…oh no, it's him."

What? Him? Confused, Homulilly looked to see exactly who had dismayed Dr. Cynthia so.

The bird turned out to be a large Scarlet Macaw, and quite a handsome one at that. He was sitting perched at the top of a palm tree, tilting his head this way and that to gaze at the group of witches gawking up at him.

"Oh, he is beautiful!" Lillian squealed. "Can I pet him?"

"No," Dr. Cynthia sighed. "He…actually belongs to someone, someone that gives him just a little too much freedom. Okay girls, just a warning, he's about to-"

"God _fuckers_ you dumb slut!" the parrot suddenly screeched, making the girls jump. He began to march around the top of the tree while screaming out obscenities. "You _rat_ asshole, fuck you and your fucking fuck!"

Stunned, the young witches all exchanged bewildered glances, no one certain of how to react.

"Biiiiiiiiiiiiiiitch!" the parrot shrieked, and then took flight, sailing over their heads to disappear past the facility walls.

"Did…Did that bird just call me a dumb slut?" Claudia said.

Dr. Cynthia sighed. "No, I'm sorry about that. He belongs to some of the locals, and for whatever reason, he only knows how to curse."

A beat passed, then suddenly Vendel snorted loudly. Moments later she dissolved into giggles, and set the rest of the group off.

"Okay!" Vendel laughed. "That bird has got to be the smartest thing I've met so far. I like him."

Dr. Cynthia shook her head. "You laugh now, but trust me, it gets _real_ old after he's dropped in on you for the third time in a week to insult you and fly off."

"Even better! Finally, someone with some sense!"

Sighing again, Dr. Cynthia motioned for everyone to follow. "Well, we might as well continue, and hope we don't get accosted by any more foul-mouthed birds."

"Uh, don't you mean _foul-mouthed foul?"_ Brittney said, and immediately started cackling.

Gretchen laughed along with everyone else, but Homulilly stayed quiet. Vendel was right: that bird was the only creature they had met who had the proper response to meeting a group of monsters.

…

The tour then took them back inside. "And here is the library!" Dr. Cynthia said as she opened the next door. "Not as large as the Freehaven Public Library, but we are still very proud of the collection we've amassed here.

Once again there was a collective chorus of oohs and ahs. Once again Homulilly did not join them.

The girls all filed in through the door, everyone looking around. Directly in front of them was a long tile walkway, bordered by a check-out desk on either side, and beyond that were several rows of workdesks, all of them partitioned off by small walls to give the users some privacy.

And beyond that was a railing. And beyond the railing open space.

"Is everything here so _big?"_ Claudia exclaimed as she raced ahead of the group, followed closely by Lucy and Iris.

"The FIB is considered one of the most important places in the city," Dr. Cynthia explained as she led the rest forward in a more collected fashion. "No expense was spared in ensuring our charges were provided everything they could need."

"Yeah, but do you really get _that_ many girls coming through here?" Vendel said. "I mean, like, there's only so many magical girls dying at the same time."

"True. Classes do tend to be on the small side, and our classrooms are much smaller than you would see back at home. But the FIB provides many other services than simple schooling, rehabilitation, and integration for the newly arrived. We also open our doors to those who have already been here for some time but still require help coming to terms with things."

"Um, what… _kind_ of things?" Marty asked.

Dr. Cynthia sighed. "Well, for one our…increased lifespans. We are on the other side now, and things like aging and death are, for all intents and purposes, obsolete. And sometimes people need helping coming to terms with that later down the line."

Marty's eyes got real wide. "Wait, we're _immortal_ now?"

"Essentially, yes."

"Wow," Marty said. She laughed. _"Wow!_ Um, can you say 'jackpot'?"

Homulilly did not share her enthusiasm. Immortal? Never-aging? Unable to die? To be stuck as a monster for all eternity? That didn't sound like much fun to her at all!

Dr. Cynthia kept talking. "The facility is also employed by many research groups dedicated to studying the unique properties of the afterlife, as well as various scholars, journalists, and other researchers. Our doors are open to anyone that might need our help."

They reached the railing and looked out.

It was again too big. Beyond the railing was a rotunda, one that rose up through all three of the building's above-ground stories. They were on the center story, leaving a story above and a story below. Homulilly glanced down. Below was a circular area with couches, side-tables, and chairs, no doubt intended for socializing. Though they weren't very high up, it still made her dizzy, so she looked up instead.

That proved to be a mistake, as above was the inside of a glass dome, and the glass dome was painted with pictures of monsters, monsters that she recognized from the orientation film: the other species that had been contacted by the Incubators. Though the mural itself depicted a smiling human girl holding hands with the monsters, to Homulilly it just looked like they were surrounding her to devour her.

So she instead looked straight ahead, at the rest of the floor across from them. In there, as was around then, as was on the stories above and below, were rows upon rows of bookshelves, so many of them that it made her head spin, a veritable labyrinth of literature.

And it was just. Too. Big.

As everyone else gawked down at the wealth of knowledge made available to them, Homulilly retreated a few steps to gather herself. Her head felt light and her stomach queasy, and the pounding of her heart was so loud that it was starting to drown out everyone's voices.

Homulilly quickly slipped in between two shelves and clamped her hands over her ears. This had been a mistake. Why did she come? Why did she say that she could handle it? The group therapy sessions were bad enough, but at least those stayed in one room. Now she just kept getting weirdness thrown at her over and over and over…

As she power-walked back and forth in an attempt to regain her composure, she happened to glance up, and immediately regretted it.

One the side of one of the bookshelves was a poster. And on the poster were pictures of freaks.

It was all the aliens that had also come to the afterlife, magical girls from other species. And they all looked _terrifying!_ There were big, muscle-bound Yeti-looking creatures with four arms, huge tusks, and flapping ears that looked like bat wings. There were squat, hairy creatures with massive, shovel-like hands and flattered heads with huge mouths. There were lavender centaurs with four eyes, no mouths, and scalpel-like blades at the end of long, whiplike tails. There were long, snakelike monsters with alligator heads and writhing tentacles all the way down their bodies. There were twisted, nine-armed monstrosities with bodies that looked like they were made out of dull brown glass and eyeless heads with mouths that looked like closed flowerbuds sitting at the end of long stalks.

There were more after that, but Homulilly forced herself to tear her eyes away. They were all strange, scary, and awful, and she didn't want to see more. She ran halfway down the aisle and leaned back against the volumes. Then she sank down to the ground and buried her face in her arms. She wanted to go back to their room, she wanted to go back to their room…

"Homulilly-chan?"

It was Gretchen, thank God. Anyone else and Homulilly might have screamed.

"Are you okay?"

Homulilly glanced up. Gretchen was standing at the entrance to the aisle, looking down at her in concern. Sniffing, Homulilly shook her head.

Gretchen skittered over to her and sat down on the floor next to her. "What's wrong?" she said, laying a hand on Homulilly's shoulder.

There was a pause, and then Homulilly whispered, "I don't like it here."

"You don't? But everything's so…cool!"

"I don't," Homulilly repeated. "It's…it's too big. Too loud. Too weird. And there's too many people."

"But there's only…" Gretchen's voice trailed off, probably realizing that it wouldn't do any good. So instead she leaned in and wrapped her arms around Homulilly.

It helped; oh _God_ , it helped. It didn't take away the scariness or anxiety, but Homulilly at least felt a little safer now, so long as Gretchen was with there with her, but she wanted to get out.

As Gretchen held her, Homulilly heard the sound of footsteps. She glanced up to see Gwen looking down at them in concern.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

Homulilly said nothing, so Gretchen said, "Um, Homulilly-chan is just a little overwhelmed. Would it be okay if we went back to our room?"

"Of course. I'll take you there. Don't worry: everyone's so focused on the tour that they won't even notice."

"Okay." Gretchen gave Homulilly's head a quick hug, and then slid her hand into Homulilly's. "Come on."

Sniffling, Homulilly let herself be brought to her feet and led to the door, one hand gripping onto Gretchen's while she hugged herself with the other.

"Sorry," she mumbled.

"It's okay!" Gretchen said. "You don't have to be sorry."

Yes, she did. "You wanted to see the whole place. I ruined that for you."

"Lilly-chan, it's really fine! I can see the rest anytime! It's not like it's going anywhere."

Even though Gretchen meant those words as a comfort, it only made Homulilly feel worse. It wasn't going anywhere. _They_ weren't going anywhere. They were stuck in a world of freaks, and she was the biggest freak of them all!

 _What's wrong with me?_ Homulilly wondered as Gwen led them back to their room. _Why am I like this?_ Everything they had been shown had been so nice, and sure, the other witches were…weird, but they were also pretty nice. So why was she having such a negative reaction to everything?

She took a deep breath. Okay, okay, so she had a bad day. Well, no, the day itself hadn't been bad, but she had some issues she needed to work through. _Get it together, Homulilly. This is your home now, and Gretchen likes it here, so learn to like it!_

Easier said than done.

Homulilly was so deep in her own thoughts that she hadn't noticed the sound of footsteps that had started to ghost them until they had nearly caught up.

Then someone cleared her throat. "Um, excuse me?" said a voice with some kind of European accent.

Homulilly, Gretchen, and Gwen all paused. And then they turned around.

It was a girl who looked to be a couple of years older than they, with very pale skin; long, straight hair that was a lighter shade of pink than Gretchen's; and matching eyes. Though she was wearing the same uniform as they, she didn't seem to be a witch, and was anxiously glancing back and forth between Homulilly and Gretchen.

"Ava?" Gwen said. "Why aren't you with your group?"

The girl named Ava ignored her and focused on Homulilly and Gretchen. "You two. They say that you're a Walpurgisnacht. Is that true?"

"I…" Gretchen shot Homulilly a glance. "Yes?"

Licking her lips, Ava stepped forward, which made the two of them step back.

"Okay. Okay. Look. Did you ever fight my sister? She's a year younger than me, with hair the same color of mine, only hers was curly, and she had freckles, and a silver earring, and her outfit was all white with a cape and a really long tunic, and she had a silver halberd."

"Oh no." Gwen hastily got between the pair and Ava. "Ava, listen: these two aren't-"

"Her name was Emma! And she was…" The girl's voice choked a little. "They say she was killed by a Walpurgisnacht. That's what the other Puella Magi told me. Was it you? Do you remember ever fighting her?"

Homulilly was dumbstruck. She had been so focused on coming to terms with her new existence that she hadn't even considered the idea that she and Gretchen might have actually fought Puella Magi when they had been joined together, much less killed any of them!

"I…I'm sorry," Gretchen stammered. "W-We really d-don't…we lost our memories!"

The girl kept staring. "Wait, you don't remember? Anything?"

"No."

"Ava, _it wasn't them!"_ Gwen pleaded. "Please let them be!"

Ava ignored her, instead continuing to focus on Homulilly and Gretchen. "Are you sure? Her halberd did this thing where it would split in half into two smaller halberds! And she shot silver stars from her hands!"

Gretchen was getting really agitated. "I'm really, really sorry, but we really don't-"

"And she liked yelling, 'The morning dawns!' for her finishing move! You have to remember that, right?"

Homulilly still had yet to find her tongue, or anything else for that matter. She had no idea what to do. The girl was getting more and more frantic, Gretchen all the more flustered, and if this kept up Homulilly was going to up and run away.

Suddenly two more caretakers, neither of them witches, showed up. "Ava! Leave them alone, please!" one of them called as they hurried up to her.

Her eyes lost and filled with pain, Ava lifted a finger toward the distraught witches. "But…they're a Walpurgisnacht…and my sister…"

"They're from _Japan,_ Ava. You're from Finland. There's lots of smaller Walpurgisnachts out there." The caretaker took Ava by the hand and she and her associate led her away.

When they were gone, Gwen turned to the pair. "I'm so sorry, girls," she said. "She must have snuck off during their own tour."

Homulilly said nothing. She just gripped Gretchen's hand and stared at the ground, her hair falling around her face like a veil, while on top of her head her spider-lilly closed up its petals into a tight bud.

"Is she going to be okay?" Gretchen asked.

Oh Gretchen. How could anyone be so kind? Even after being accused of murder, her primary concern was the wellbeing of the girl doing the accusing.

"She will be. Unfortunately, Puella Magi have a harder time adjusting to their new life than we witches do. The first few weeks are especially difficult for them. That's part of the reason why we put off having your group and theirs meet."

"And because you're afraid that they're going to attack us," Homulilly said suddenly, so suddenly that it sort of surprised herself. "They see us as monsters, don't they?"

"You're not," Gwen said firmly.

"But that's how they see us, right? They used to hunt us, right? That's how we got here! Every one of us got killed by one of them, and every one of them got killed by one of us!"

"And none of you knew any better," Gwen said. "That's what we're doing here. We're breaking down those walls to make everyone realize that we're all on the same team."

Homulilly scowled. "And what if they don't want to? What if they want to keep hunting us?"

"They won't. None of them will. We won't let them. You have my promise."

"But is it true?" Gretchen whispered.

"Is what true, Gretchen?"

"Th-That we might've, you know, hurt people? Or even…" Gretchen's voice trailed off, unable to say _kill_ out loud.

"Oh no," Gwen sighed. Then she gently put her arms around both of their shoulders and drew them in. "Listen to me. There is no way of knowing what happened during those days, how long they lasted, or if anyone got hurt. But whatever did happen, _it wasn't your fault!_ You are not and never have been monsters. You were trapped within monsters created by the Incubators, and now you've been freed. Anything that might have happened is solely the fault of the Incubators, not yours, not ours, and not the other girls'. Understand?"

Teary-eyed, Gretchen returned the embrace, but Homulilly shied back. She didn't want anyone touching her. She didn't deserve to be comforted.

And no matter what Gwen might say, she was wrong. Whoever that girl had become Homulilly might have once been, she had not been freed. She was still trapped within a monster, a monster named Homulilly.

…

Some time had passed. Homulilly and Gretchen had fortunately returned to their room, but Homulilly didn't feel much better.

She lay on her bed, bundled up in her blanket, having wrapped it around her into a tight cocoon, while dark thoughts buzzed through her head. Gretchen was sitting on her own bed, looking out the window at the city beyond.

Neither of them had spoken since coming back. Both of them were absorbed with the same terrible realization.

_I might have killed someone._

Homulilly had been struggling with her identity as a monster ever since arriving. Sure, there were other witches around, other girls who looked, for lack of a better term, _inhuman,_ but Homulilly was the only one who was outright monstrous. Even Lindy made the whole giant spider look work for her. But what did Homulilly have?

Bones. Skeletal arms with skeletal hands. Dead things. She was the walking embodiment of death.

The caretakers had reassured her multiple times that her appearance wasn't frightening at all, that there were many people in town that looked even scarier and no one gave them a second look, but Homulilly couldn't bring herself to believe them. All the so-called "scary" witches she had seen were more cool looking than frightening. She was the only one who was outright hideous.

And of course Gretchen had also repeatedly told her not to be so hard on herself, that her arm really were cool, and that she looked fine. Homulilly…actually accepted that Gretchen believed that, but then again, Gretchen liked everyone, so it wasn't really much of an endorsement.

But now all those reassures meant nothing, because now Homulilly had confirmation. And to be truthful, it was sort of relieving. She no longer had to struggle with the idea that she was a monster. Now she had definite proof.

_I am a witch. I killed someone._

She knew that she had. She didn't know who, she didn't know how, she just felt that, between the time when the girl she had been had become a witch and her own demise, someone's life had ended by her hand. It had to have happened.

_I wonder who it was. Another magical girl? Someone normal? I wonder what their name was. Are they here? Will I meet them one day?_

Suddenly Gretchen broke the silence. "I wonder if they're here."

Homulilly frowned, and then rolled her blanket-wrapped body over toward her only friend. "Who?" she said.

Gretchen was still looking out the window, out at the city. "The ones that freed us," she said. "I wonder if they're here. Maybe they died, and we'll meet them one day."

Homulilly made a face. "I doubt it," she said. "Else they would've been where we were, when we woke up."

"Maybe they died later."

Homulilly shrugged.

"I keep thinking though, about the Puella Magi in the other group. What if _we_ killed one of them? What happens if she recognizes us?"

Homulilly sighed. Then she slowly unraveled herself from her blanket and went over to Gretchen's bed to sit next to her.

"I guess she'll be mad," Homulilly said.

"I guess so," Gretchen said. "I hope she knows that we're sorry." Then she blinked. "Wait, why are we acting like we know for a fact that it's true?"

Homulilly drew her legs and up and hugged her knees. "Because it probably is."

"Yeah, but we don't know that."

Homulilly shrugged.

"Hmmm." Frowning, Gretchen swung her thicket of legs around and stood up. "Well. If it's true, then I'll say that we're sorry and try to make it up to them. I'll do my best to be her friend. Because that's what this is all about, right? We're all kind of messed up, so we have to do our best to get along and get better together, right?"

Silence.

"Right?" Gretchen said again, this time looking directly at Homulilly, her softly glowing pink eyes almost pleading with her friend to agree.

Homulilly sighed. "I guess."

Gretchen's mouth thinned out in disapproval. Than she sat back down on the bed next to Homulilly.

"Lilly-chan," she said, taking one of Homulilly's hands and gently tugging it off her knee. "Look at me, please."

Homulilly hesitated, and then did so.

"Is this what you're so upset about? You think that people are going to think you're a bad person and hate you?"

Homulilly swallowed. She couldn't lie to Gretchen. "That's…part of it."

"What's the other part?"

In answer, Homulilly withdrew her hand and slid her gloves off, revealing her bare bones. "Everyone's so confident in how weird they look," she mumbled. "And they all look so cool. But me? I have…these!"

"Well, I think they're cool!" Gretchen said. "And the others will as well. Besides, Lindy-chan is way scarier than you are, and everyone likes her!"

Homulilly shrugged her bony shoulders. "She's a better person than me."

"No, she's _not,"_ Gretchen said in a tone that tolerated no argument. "Don't talk about yourself that way!"

A lump was rising in Homulilly's throat. She quickly looked away.

After a bit, Gretchen said in a low voice, "Lilly-chan, am I stupid?"

"What?" Homulilly's head whipped around toward her in surprise. "Of course not!"

"Am I bad person?"

"No! You're the nicest person I know!"

"Then if you are a bad person, shouldn't that make me someone who's also bad or stupid for liking you?"

"But…You like everyone, no matter how bad they are!"

Gretchen shrugged. "Well, I don't know about that. I haven't really met any bad people yet, but if I met someone who was really, really bad, then I probably wouldn't like them. And I know for a fact that you're not a bad person. Why would I want to spend so much time with you if you were?"

"Uh, well, because we're roommates?"

"That's not it."

"Well, we shared the same soul, so maybe that has something to do with it."

"Exactly! We used to be the same person! Or, well, the same witch. So if I'm a good person, then you are too!"

Homulilly was pretty sure that that wasn't how it worked, but she did appreciate Gretchen's eternal encouragement, despite as…aggressive as it was sometimes.

"Lilly-chan, I know you're scared that people won't like you, but I know they won't if you just give them a chance. So please, _please_ try to make friends. I think it'll be good for you!"

"But…I _don't_ want other friends! You're the only friend I need!"

Gretchen laid her hand on Homulilly's. "I still think it'll be good for you. So please try. For me?"

Homulilly's face scrunched up.

" _Please?"_

"Fine," Homulilly said after a bit. "I'll…try."

Grinning, Gretchen threw her arms around Homulilly's shoulders and hugged her tight. "Don't worry," she said. "It's probably only scary and weird the first few weeks. I just know that once we get used to everything you'll love it here too!"

Homulilly didn't contradict her, though she felt that she should. She just hoped that Gretchen was right, because for all of everyone's talk of making this afterlife the best place they could, it was still an afterlife full of monsters, and there was only one place monsters went after they died.


	7. Settling In, Part 3

_Above, the skies were dark and stormy, all light choked out by angry clouds that seemed to slam into and roll against one another like battling bulls. Black rain poured down in torrents, the dark clouds bleeding onto the devastation below, soiling it further instead of cleansing it._

_The city had been completely destroyed. A massive crater enveloped the entire downtown area, as if an enormous comet had dropped from the heavens above to annihilate the once-bustling metropolis. Entire skyscrapers had been smashed to bits, streets uprooted and broken to pieces, the very ground collapsed into the sewers below. Even neighborhoods far from the blast sight had been leveled by the shockwave, leaving little that was standing, or even living._

_And Homulilly was all alone._

_She huddled behind a section of shattered wall, skeletal arms wrapped around herself as she trembled from both fear and cold. Her meager dress provided little in the way of cover, as did the wall._

_She fearfully looked out at the ruined city. There were shadows moving through the crater, searching. It was her that they were looking for. They were the hunters, and she was the prey, and she had no way of defending herself._

_Standing to her shaking legs, she cupped her bony fingers around her mouth and called out, "Gretchen! Gretchen, where are you?"_

_There was no answer. If her friend was near, then she did not hear her._

_Fear was starting to rise into panic. "Gretchen!" she called again. "Gretchen, plea-"_

_Lightning split the sky overhead, and thunder boomed milliseconds later, swallowing her voice. Homulilly winced and threw her hands over her ears, but lacking skin it did nothing to shield her from the sound._

_Then the top of the wall she had been hiding behind exploded._

_Squeaking in fear, Homulilly scampered off as bullet pelted the debris right behind her. On zinged past her ear, dangerously close._

" _That's her!" called one of the hunters. "The monster!"_

" _Don't let her get away!"_

_Hugging herself, Homulilly fled through the ruins, ducking behind smashed cars and chunks of buildings, desperately trying to find a means of escape, but more importantly trying to find Gretchen._

_The bulb of a mangled streetlight that rose up above her, somehow left undamaged, suddenly shattered as she passed under it. Their shots were getting closer._

_As she continued to flee, Homulilly cast a fearful glance over one shoulder._

_The hunters were getting closer. To her eyes, they looked like dark shadows with glowing red eyes, all in the form of young girls wearing extravagant outfits and carrying exotic weapons._

_Weapons that they intended to use on her._

_Panicked, Homulilly turned away so that she could see where she was going, only to realize all too late that she was running right toward a dead end. The end of the shattered sidewalk that she had been fleeing across had been sheared right off, leading to a sheer drop right into the crater._

_She tried to stop, to change direction, but the broken asphalt beneath her feet was slick with the black rain, and her feet slipped right out from under her. She slid right over the edge and fell screaming into the rubble-filled pit._

_The fall was a confusing muddle of loud sounds and painful impacts, and when it ended, Homulilly was lying in a black puddle at the very bottom of the crater._

" _There she is!"_

_The hunters were all gathered on the ledge she had fallen from, staring down at her._

" _Get her!"_

_They were after her again, charging down the crater's side. But this time, instead of fleeing, Homulilly just sat up to wait. What was the point of running._

_However, just before they reached her, Homulilly found herself looked straight up, and she gasped._

_A monstrosity was hovering in the air, a twisted amalgamation of two monsters, one facing up and the other facing down, their torsos fused together. The one on top was a horror of sketchy lines in a humanoid form, its massive claws spread wide and grasping. On the bottom was a woman's skeleton, one with flowing raven hair, and a huge red flower covering half of its skull._

"Homulilly-chan!"

Homulilly gasped as her eyes popped open. She looked around wildly, trying to see where her attacker was.

And then she saw a pair of dark pink eyes staring at her in kindness and concern.

Homulilly blinked, her memories of where she was and the sheer terror of the nightmare thrusting themselves upon one another.

Slowly the memories won out. She wasn't in a ruined city, she was in the room that she shared with Kriemhild Gretchen, in the Freehaven Integration Bureau. And she didn't need to fear death, because she was already dead, and this was their afterlife.

That didn't mean that there was nothing to fear, however.

Sighing, Homulilly collapsed back onto the bed. Then she rolled back and forth, gathering up the disheveled blanket and wrapping it tightly around herself. But she didn't turn away from Gretchen.

Her mouth setting in a straight line, Gretchen reached over and smoothed out Homulilly's bangs.

"You were crying in your sleep again. Another nightmare?"

Still teary-eyed, Homulilly nodded.

"Was it about Doomsday Clock?"

Doomsday Clock was the name of that horrible city of constantly reversing rain and shifting buildings. Apparently all the spawn cities where dead Puella Magi and witches ended up in had similarly horrible names.

"No," Homulilly whispered, though Gretchen wasn't wrong for assuming so. They both struggled with bad dreams about that place, about things like being unable to escape being wrapped to that monstrous clock or falling into the gaping abyss between the buildings.

This wasn't one of those nights though.

"It was…it was a different city," Homulilly said. "It was raining there too, but the city. It was broken! Destroyed! Something had ripped it to pieces. And there were people there, and they were hunting me, they were shooting at me, a-and I tried to get away, I tried to find you, but I couldn't! And in the end, they just…"

"Shhh," Gretchen soothed as she gently wrapped her arms around Homulilly's neck and shoulders to cradle her head. "It's okay, it's okay. I'm here. You found me. You're safe now, they didn't get you."

Homulilly tentatively reached out with one fleshless hand and wrapped her bony fingers around Gretchen's arm.

She would have liked to just stay there like that, all wrapped up in her blanket with Gretchen holding her, safe and warm where nothing could get her.

Unfortunately, today was a day in which that wasn't an option.

"It's today, isn't it?" Homulilly whispered.

Gretchen nodded.

The day. The day that she had been dreading. The day that they, and the other witches, would finally be introduced to the magical girls in their class, the Puella Magi. Apparently while Dr. Cynthia had been easing the witches into the new system, showing them around, letting them get to know one another, and preparing them for the day when they would be introduced to the same girls who had previously hunted them, the same had been done for the Puella Magi, teaching them that witches weren't to be feared, that they were just normal girls like they were, albeit with some weird, but harmless, additions.

Gretchen was looking forward to meet them.

Homulilly was not.

"Homulilly-chan, I promise that you'll be fine," Gretchen said, running her fingers through Homulilly's shimmering raven hair. "I'll be with you the whole time. No one's going to hurt you so long as I'm around!"

Homulilly swallowed. "But they hate us! They have to! They all died fighting witches, right? Fighting us? How can they not hate us?"

"Because they know better by now! They know that we're not dangerous." Gretchen titled her head and smiled encouragingly. "Now, come on. It's time to get dressed."

In response, Homulilly merely sank deeper into her blanket cocoon.

"No, that's not right. Come on out." Gretchen gingerly started to unwrap Homulilly, despite Homulilly's half-hearted protests. "Come on. You know you have to get up."

Gradually she drew Homulilly out, getting her out of the blanket and maneuvered her into sitting up on the edge of the bed. Homulilly tried to lie back down, but Gretchen was having none of it.

"No, no," she chided, taking Homulilly by both wrists and getting her to her feet. "None of that now."

Homulilly sighed, but once again Gretchen had won. As it usually was, getting out of bed was the hard part. Once she was out and up, it was easier to clean up and change.

Gretchen was already dressed in her uniform, so she helped Homulilly peel off her pajamas and got her to put her own uniform on, all the while murmuring words of encouragement. By the time Homulilly was slipping on the thick, full-arm velvet gloves that hid the scariest part about her from the rest of the world, she was doing it by herself.

"And there we go!" Gretchen said, helping Homulilly straighten her tie. "Cute as always! You're sure to win some new admirers today!"

Homulilly smiled a little at the praise, though truthfully, that was the last thing she wanted. The less attention on her, the better.

Then, right on time, there was a knock on their door. "Good morning, girls!" Dr. Cynthia called from the other side. "It's time to go!"

"Okay, we're coming!" Gretchen called back.

"That's what she said!" they heard Lucy call from the other side, following by a burst of giggling. Homulilly blinked and glanced at Gretchen, who seemed as confused as she was.

Shrugging, the two headed for the door, Gretchen taking the lead as always, as her many wirelike legs required the most space. Before they entered the hall, Homulilly frowned. "Um, Gretchen-chan?"

"Hmmm?"

"In my dream? You know how there was a broken city, and it looked like something big had destroyed it?"

"Yes?"

The dream was already fading, as dreams do, but Homulilly still clearly recalled that amalgamation of monsters that had been hovering in the sky.

"I think it was us."

…

A small gaggle of the other witches were already waiting with Dr. Cynthia as she went from door to door, getting everyone together.

"So, are you guys as excited as I am?" Lindy said once Homulilly and Gretchen had joined them.

"Excited isn't exactly the word I'd use," Vendel said darkly. "More like, these girls are gonna wanna kill us, and I don't agree with that at all."

"Oh, please!" said Brittney, who had entwined her scaly fingers behind her head. "They wouldn't put us in the same room if that was the case."

"Right! I'm sure it's perfectly safe!" agreed Marty, though it was clear that she had some major reservations about this.

"Well, I'm looking forward to meeting them," Gretchen said. "I mean, they all have memories of a world that we all lived in, but only they remember! I'd like to ask them about it."

"See! That's the spirit!" Lindy said, nudging Gretchen with her elbow.

"Oh, do you think they brought any music with them from the world of the living?" Iris said, her cassette-tape eyes whirring in excitement.

Vendel shot her a look. "Don't you, like, have like a gazillion songs already?"

"Twelve-thousand, five hundred and twenty! But I'm always looking for more!"

"Have you actually listened to all that?"

"Several times! But some more than others, I'm afraid."

Lucy began rubbing her hands together and chuckled. "Well, I'm just going to be waiting for them to drop their guard, and then BAM! Head in someone's lap!"

"Oh, and that reminds me," Dr. Cynthia said over her shoulder. "While you of course ought not hide who you are, there will be no deliberately using your witch remnants to scare them. So yes, your head stays on."

Lucy's face fell. "What? But I've waiting all week to-"

" _No,_ Lucy."

"Well, great. What's the point of having a removeable head if you can't have any fun?" Lucy grumbled as she sulkily folded her arms.

Homulilly said nothing, but she still glanced at Lucy in bewilderment. How could she actually want to provoke the Puella Magi like that? To her way of thinking, the less attention brought to their witch remnants, the better.

They gathered the last of the witches in their class (Claudia) and then everyone headed for the same room that they had their daily group therapy sessions. Apparently the magical girls had been having their own meetings in the same room, only at different times.

The closer they got, the more anxious Homulilly felt. Her mouth had gone dry, and it felt like ice water was sloshing around in her belly.

Then she felt a warm hand slip around hers and squeeze tight. Homulilly glanced to her side to see Gretchen smiling encouragingly at her. Homulilly nodded briefly and squeezed back.

They entered the room, and to Homulilly's dismay, the Puella Magi were already there, standing with their own caretaker, staring at them.

Like the witches, they were all in their early-to-mid teens, and were of an eclectic mix of ethnicities. However, there were only six of them, while there were twelve witches. So if anything violent did occur, at least the witches had the numbers advantage.

Even so, Homulilly really, _really_ hoped that nothing of the sort took place.

The witches all stared at the Puella Magi, and the Puella Magi stared back at the witches. No one spoke.

Standing at the head of the room was another one of the caretakers, a girl with short, curly black hair; chipmunk cheeks; and dark eyes. Homulilly had seen her from time to time, but couldn't remember her name. "Good morning, everyone," she said once everyone was in the room. "Now, this is a very important day. You've all spent the last few weeks getting to know the girls sharing your specific situation, Puella Magi with Puella Magi, witches with witches, and we have all learned the truth about what it means to be either. Well, today we're going to learn how little those differences mean, and how much we really have in common, and from this day on, we will be going forward as a single class."

"Hiiiiiiiiiii!" Iris said, waving enthusiastically. "Nice to meet you all! And hey, does anyone have any good-"

"Iris, Iris, honey," Dr. Cynthia said with a small laugh. "You're getting a little ahead of yourself. Don't worry, you'll be able to ask about music all you want."

"Oh! Right! Um, proceed."

A few of the witches laughed, but the magical girls all just looked confused.

Smiling, the caretaker at the front of the room cleared her throat. "All right, now we're going to introduce ourselves, and we're going to do this in alphabetical order." She looked over to the magical girls. "Amaya, that means we're starting with you."

The magical girl that was named made a face, but she stepped forward. She was the tallest of the group, a girl with curly brown hair and brown eyes. Homulilly recognized her as the loud and obnoxious girl from the orientation, the one that had thrown up when Lucy had taken off her head.

Amaya cleared her throat and said, "So…hi. I'm, uh, Amaya Alverez. I'm from a place called San Fernando, and that's in Spain, and yes, I'm the girl that had the freak out on our first day."

She shot a glare at Lucy, who merely beamed.

Amaya sighed. "So, uh, yes I don't think this is some kind of trick anymore. It's just…extremely weird. So yeah."

The caretaker nodded. "Thank you, Amaya. Amirah, please step forward."

Amirah, the Saudi Arabian witch with two large buttons for eyes and more buttons sewn evenly into her skin, did as asked. "Hello!" she said cheerily. A bit _too_ cheerily, Homulilly noted, no doubt overcompensating for her own nervousness. "Amirah! And before you ask, I can see just find, and no, I don't know how!"

"Very good," Dr. Cynthia said. "Ava, you're next."

Next was the girl with the white hair, the same that had surprised Homulilly and Gretchen that one day, thinking that they had been the Walpurgisnacht that had killed her sister.

Sure enough, she had been stealing glances at the pair ever since they had all entered the room. Swallowing nervously, she said, "Um, hello. I'm Ava, Ava Nummi. I'm from Finland, and…hi."

She quickly stepped back.

Next up was Brittney. "Well, hi, everyone!" she said. "Brittney, in da house! Uh, as you can see, I'm kinda scaly, and that's it. Kind of feel ripped off, actually. Some of these weirdoes have all sorts of cool powers, and I get scales. Total ripoff."

That got a few giggles, mostly on the witches' side, but a couple of the magical girls cracked a smile.

After her was one of the magical girls, who was white with pink eyes and long pink hair. "Well, I'm Carly," she said. "Carly Sanders. I'm from Grenoble, France. And believe it or not, I actually learned what the deal is with us and witches before I died. That was…a pretty bad day."

"Whoa," Brittney whistled. "And you still kept fighting?"

"No, I got hit by a truck. That's how I died."

Brittney snorted back laughter, but that quickly tampered off when she saw that Carly wasn't laughing.

"Oh," she said. "You're being serious."

Carly shrugged.

"Uh, sorry." Blushing with embarrassment, Brittney stepped back.

"It's okay," Carly said. "I, uh, get that a lot."

Next up was Claudia. "Er, hello!" she said. "I'm Claudia. And yes, I am, in fact, an intersection." The streetlights in her eyes switched from green to yellow to red before clicking back to green. "And no, my vision doesn't changed when the lights do, and yes, it doesn't make any sense at all. Nice to meet you!"

By then the magical girls seemed to be loosening up a little, and there were a few murmured greetings.

"Well, hello everyone," said Gabrielle. "And…I think I'm also French, if my accent means anything."

"Oh, huh," Carly said, her brow rising.

Gabrielle nodded to her. "And yes, the hat is part of my head, and seeing just how _stunning_ it looks, I'd say I was the most fortunate."

Next, it was Gretchen's turn. "Hello," she said with a friendly wave. "It's great to meet you all. My name's Kriemhild Gretchen, but you can just call me Gretchen. And, uh, yes, I get really tall when I stand all the way up, so that's a bit of a bother."

"She bangs her head on stuff," Lucy snickered. "Like, a lot!"

After her was another one of the Puella Magi, a shorter Hispanic girl with short, spiky hair that was bright orange. "Well, here goes," she said. "I'm Heather, and I'm from Cuba, and I actually already know one of you! Hi, Lillian!"

"Hi!" Lillian waved back.

"Yeah, so, she and I actually killed each other!" Heather said. "But then we became friends, so it worked out. Miss you, babe!"

"Missed you too!"

"You guys, like, have been talking pretty much every day," said Vendel.

Heather shrugged. "So? We're still missed each other."

Smiling, the caretaker at the front of the room nodded. "Well, you'll be seeing a lot more of each other from now on. Now, Homulilly?"

Well, here it came. Swallowing, Homulilly stepped forward and bowed her head. "Hi," she said in a small voice. "Homulilly." Then she stepped back.

Fortunately, nobody asked anything.

After her came Iris, and she was excited. "Hiiiiiiii!" she said in the exact same tone as before. "I'm Iris, and like I was saying, if anyone has any great music from when you were alive, let me know! I'm always adding to my playlist and am happy to share!"

"Oh, uh, huh," said the next girl in line, a black girl with straight blue hair. "I'm Jordan Lewis, and I'm…I'm from Liverpool. That's in England." She shrugged. "Hello."

After her was Lillian. "Well, hello everyone!" she said, fidgeting with both nervousness and excitement. "I'm Lillian, and I guess I'm also from Cuba, because Heather is! And if we can become friends, then I'm sure all of us can be friends too!" Heather grinned and shot her a pair of finger-guns.

"Isn't this great?" Linda beamed. "Hey, everybody! I'm Linda, but you can call me Lindy. And I'm a real big spider! So, uh, sorry to everyone who's not comfortable with big bugs, but I can promise you that I am the friendliest big bug that you'll ever meet!"

"Whaddup?" Lucy grinned. "I'm Lucy, and you all got a taste of what I can do during the orientation. Unfortunately, they're not letting me show you, so if you can just imagine me taking off my head and spinning it like a basketball, maybe you'll have an idea of what my deal is. And yes, it is as awesome as it sounds."

"So…hey!" said Marty. "I'm Marty, and I'm a big paperclip collection. No, it's not uncomfortable. And please don't untwist the paperclips, it kind of hurts."

The second to last of the magical girls was next, a small, shy-looking black girl with dark violet hair. "Um, h-hey," she said. "I'm uh, I'm Shiloh Williams. I'm from Philadelphia. In America. And, uh, if I was the one to, uh, take any of you down, I just wanted to say that, um, I'm really, really sorry."

"Aw, don't worry about it!" Linda said. "It all worked out!"

Vendel was the last of the witches, and as always, she looked like she would much rather be anywhere else. "So, hey," she said, her arms folded. "I'm Vendel. And before you ask, I still have no idea what my deal is, or why my neck is so long, or what is even going on with my face, so don't ask."

Bringing up the very end was a short Asian girl with straight maroon hair. "Well, hello," she said. "Zhao Ming. I'm from Taiwan. And this is all really weird, but hey, I guess it could be worse."

And that, Homulilly felt, was a pretty good summation of how her life was now. Really weird, but it could be worse.

She still didn't want to be there.

…

When the witches had been told that the day in which they would be fully introduced to their Puella Magi counterparts was coming, Homulilly had hoped that it would be a quick affair, that there would just be a round of introductions and then things would carry on as normal, only with the two classes now merged into one.

Unfortunately, the FIB had different ideas.

They turned the meeting into a party.

Well, not a _party,_ per se, but more of an extended mingling session with food and drink, a chance to break the ice and get people talking.

Well, Homulilly would have liked for there to be more ice, and she was heavily opposed to talking to a bunch of people that she didn't know and might have reason to want to kill her.

Gretchen, however, did not share her fear, and in fact was quite eager to meet everyone. And so, determined not to ruin it for her, Homulilly kept quiet, kept close, and did her best to avoid drawing attention to herself.

This was a lot easier than she had expected. With her arms covered, the only visible witch remnant was the flower on the top of her head, and with girls like Lindy, Marty, or Vendel around, she just didn't stand out.

Good.

Gretchen, however, did. When standing straight up, her wire legs made her the tallest in the room, towering over even Lindy and Vendel, so she had to spread out to keep on the same level as everyone, which still made her very conspicuous, so there seemed like each and every one of the Puella Magi stopped by to talk to her and ask questions about how her legs worked. Through it all, Homulilly stayed close but stayed quiet and just waited for it all to end.

Eventually people broke off into little groups, and due to the ratio, those groups roughly equaled two witches and one Puella Magi each. And as it worked out, Homulilly found herself fiddling with a plate of fresh fruit while Gretchen talked to Zhao.

"It's just the _weirdest,"_ Zhao said. She was sitting cross-legged on one of the chairs, while Gretchen and Homulilly occupied a nearby couch. "I never really, you know, believed that there even was an afterlife. I mean, I didn't think that there was a god, so why would there be a an afterlife?" She looked around at the room. "But even if there was one, I don't think anyone thought that it would be like this!"

"I know what you mean," Gretchen nodded. "I mean, I don't actually know what I believed in, but it probably wasn't, well, it probably wasn't a really nice school near a beach."

Zhao tilted her head. "So, you two don't remember anything at all? Not who you were or what your names used to be?"

Homulilly frowned. To her, that was a really personal question. However, Gretchen didn't seem to mind.

"Nope!" she said cheerily. "Nothing! I mean, there were these quick little flashes our first few days, but they faded pretty quickly."

"Like a dream?"

"Exactly!"

"Wow," Zhao said. "You know, you guys are actually kind of lucky. I mean, at least you get to, you know, just _start_ living here. You don't have to worry about your families or anything!"

Homulilly's frown deepened.

Gretchen's face softened in sympathy. "Do you miss your family?" she asked.

Zhao made a face. "To be honest…not really. I mean, I lived with my aunt and uncle, and they were…okay, I guess. But they were always so busy, I barely saw them at all. And even when they were around, all they wanted to know was how my grades were and stuff." She anxiously twiddled her thumbs together. "I mean, I didn't want to _die,_ but honestly, well, it could be a lot worse, and…"

Her voice trailed off. Ava was walking toward them, her eyes focused intently on Gretchen and Homulilly.

"Um, hey," she said. "Sorry, but c-can I say something? Just real quick?"

"Er, sure?" Zhao said. "I mean, I can leave if you want…"

"N-No, it's fine. I'll be quick."

Here it came. Homulilly steeled herself.

But instead of the expected verbal abuse, Ava nervously wrung her hands together and stared down at the ground. "Look," she said. "I'm really, really sorry for thinking that you guys, um, you know, killed my sister. You had nothing to do with that, and, well, I mean, you're from a different country entirely, so how could you? So, um, sorry about that."

Homulilly blinked. This was not what she had been expecting.

Gretchen, however, didn't seem taken off guard. "Not at all!" she said, rising up just enough to take one of Ava's hands in her own. "I don't blame you at all!"

Ava's brow rose, and she managed a sheepish smile. "Um, th-thanks?"

"Did you ever find your sister though?" Gretchen pressed. "Did you find out where she went?"

Ava's eyes were already a little watery, but now they misted over completely. "They found her," she said with a small laugh. "I couldn't believe it, but they did! She went to another town so that's why…" She swallowed. "Um, but hey! They were able to find her, and we talked a lot on the phone! She's flying in next week to come visit!" Ava shook her head in disbelief. "I never thought I'd even see her again, but I get to see her next week! It's insane!"

"It's wonderful!" Gretchen suddenly wrapped both arms around Ava and hugged her tight. "I'm so happy for you!" Ava seemed a little taken back by Gretchen's sudden affection, but she gingerly lifted her own arms and returned the embrace.

"Aw, that so sweet!" Zhao said as she and Homulilly looked on. "You know, I'm still not sure how I feel about all this, but this part is cool, right?"

Homulilly said nothing.

"Um, _right?"_

"Um, yeah," Homulilly said hastily. "Very cool. Right."

…

The "party" dragged on, and the longer it did, the more Homulilly found herself wishing that the Puella Magi had turned out to be hostile so they could just run away and hide already.

Unfortunately, they were all proving to be increasingly friendly, or at least they were pretending to be, and Gretchen just wanted to meet _all_ of them, and individually at that. Homulilly followed along the best she could, but after the third request to touch her spider-lily, she left Gretchen chatting with Heather and Lillian and went outside onto the balcony to get some air, as well as some space.

Fortunately, there was no one else out there. Slowly breathing out, Homulilly went up to the stone railing and looked out.

The balcony overlooked the facility gardens and, beyond the white wall that surrounded the grounds, the city itself. It really was a beautiful sight. The variety of climates represented in the gardens were blended tastefully together, creating a pleasing tapestry of color. And the city beyond always looked so peaceful, so welcoming.

 _Don't worry,_ it seemed to say to those inside the facility. _You belong here. Get better soon; your home is waiting._

And yet Homulilly just felt so confused as she looked out at the sight, so twisted up inside.

How could such a beautiful place be so welcoming to monsters? They had all done such terrible things to each other, the witches and magical girls alike! Every witch had been killed by a magical girl, and she was pretty certain that the overwhelming majority of magical girls had not died from the flu! And that wasn't even getting into the many, _many_ innocent people murdered by witches! There was probably not a single resident in all of Freehaven that did not have someone's blood on her hands!

Homulilly looked down at her own hands, currently hidden within her violet velvet gloves. She flexed her fingers, feeling them tighten.

 _Maybe that's why my hands look so dead,_ she thought. _Maybe I was the biggest monster of them all._

Did the girl she had been have any idea what was in store for her? Did she know of the monster that she would become, that someone else would take her face but not her name, that her soul would be commandeered by the same beast born from her own despair.

Maybe she did. Maybe that's why she fell into despair in the first place.

"Hey."

Homulilly stiffened. She had been so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she hadn't heard anyone approach.

Amaya Alvarez walked up to stand beside her, a cup of punch in her hands. The other girl had an odd look on her face, not the disgruntled surliness from that first day, nor the nervous apprehension from early that same day. Instead, she seemed…confused. Unsure of something.

Homulilly wondered if she should leave, if Amaya also wanted to be alone. But leaving would be rude. If Amaya wanted to be alone, she wouldn't have walked right up to Homulilly.

 _Or maybe,_ Homulilly found herself considering, _I'm the witch that killed her. Maybe she's figured it out. Maybe she wants revenge._

"So, uh," Amaya said as she slowly ran her finger over her cup's outer edge. "Homulilly, right?"

Homulilly swallowed. "Y-Yeah."

"That's kind of an unusual name. Never heard it before, actually. Any idea what it means?"

"No."

"The other witches all have regular names. Well, all except for that Vendel character. That's a new one." Amaya slowly breathed out. "Sorry, guess that wasn't much of an ice-breaker. Not really a party person, are you?"

Homulilly shook her head. "No."

"Me neither. Your friend was looking for you, by the way."

"Gretchen?" Homulilly glanced briefly over her shoulder. "Oh, uh. Okay. Thanks, uh, thanks for telling me."

She ought to have taken the excuse to go find Gretchen, and yet for some reason she didn't. Which was odd, because the alternative was staying outside with a girl she didn't know and didn't want to get to know, and there really was nothing for them to talk about besides-

"Do you hate me?" Homulilly found herself blurting out. Moments later her face heated to bright pink when she realized that, yes, she did indeed say that out loud, and there was no way to unsay it.

Sure enough, the cup of punch slipped right out of Amaya's hand, over the balcony to the ground below. She didn't even noticed though, instead gawking open-mouth at Homulilly in shock.

"Ah, I'm sorry!" Homulilly hastily turned away. "I shouldn't have said that, I'm so sorry!"

A beat passed, and then Amaya said in a small voice, "You guys think that we hate you?"

Homulilly swallowed hard. "Well, d-don't you?"

"No! None of us do! I mean, a lot of us were worried that you would all hate _us!"_

That gave Homulilly pause, and, blinking away tears, she turned back around to stare curiously at Amaya. "Wait, you thought we would…But why?"

"Because you're witches, and we used to hunt you! Why wouldn't you hate us?"

"But…we were monsters, weren't we? We would kill people! We killed you!"

Amaya winced. "Um, yeah, but it wasn't your fault, right? It was those _damned_ Incubators! I-I mean, if we didn't die, we would've ended up just like you! So, uh, how is any of this your fault?"

Homulilly didn't know what to say. True, Dr. Cynthia had hammered home again and again that they were not in any way to blame for anything that had happened when they had been full witches, and that the magical girls wouldn't hold any of it against them, but she didn't expect that to actually be true!

"Really?" Homulilly said in a small, hopeful voice.

Amaya shook her head.

And then she smiled a little.

"Man, you really thought we were still into that Puella Magi versus witch crap? Dude, that's over! You don't have to worry about us!"

Then, still smiling, she extended her hand.

Homulilly felt her breath catch in her throat. The other girls…didn't hate witches like her? Dr. Cynthia had been telling the truth?

Homulilly almost reached out and took Amaya's hand as well. But just as she was about to stretch out her arm, she caught sight of her glove, and then remembered.

"What's wrong?" Amaya said with a frown as Homulilly withdrew her hand.

Homulilly looked at her hand, glanced up at Amaya, and then looked down again.

And then she slowly pulled her glove off.

"Uh, what are you doing?" Amaya asked. "Is there something…" And then her eyes went wide. "Oh, holy shit."

Though her arms and shoulders were trembling, Homulilly held up her hand, all five skeletal fingers spread wide. She could see Amaya's stunned face through the gaps in the bones.

Homulilly smiled bitterly. "Maybe you don't hate us," she said, unbuttoning the sleeve of her cardigan and pulling her glove back on. "But you still fear us."

"Homulilly, hold on," Amaya said as Homulilly turned to walk away. "I'm sorry, I was just startled, that's all."

Homulilly paused. She glanced back at Amaya, who really did look remorseful.

Sighing, Homulilly turned away and went back inside.

Maybe they were safe. Maybe nobody hated them, or wanted to harm them.

But that didn't mean there was anyone that Homulilly wanted to be friends with. She had Gretchen, after all. Who else would she even want as a friend?

…

For the last several weeks, Dr. Cynthia had barely been able to get out of the facility. Those first few days between welcoming new arrivals, teaching them the ins and outs of their new existence, and preparing them to meet their counterparts were critical and always harrowing. But now that part was past, and though there obviously was still a great deal of work to be done, once she had some time to herself she went with her customary celebration: a trip to the Honey Hive.

The Honey Hive was a combo bakery/coffee shop not far from the FIB facility. And while the coffee provided by the FIB was very good, it was nothing compared to the sweet ambrosia of the Honey Hive, something she sorely missed when things got rough and her sleep got bad. Sure, she could order some for delivery, but it just wasn't the same.

Besides, there was just something about purchasing it in person. The Honey Hive had a warm, homey atmosphere, and she personally knew many of those who worked there, thanks to the time they had all spent at the FIB.

Sure enough, behind the counter was one of the Honey Hive's celebrated bakers, a curvy Japanese girl with honey-blonde hair tied behind her in a practical, yet flattering, ponytail. She was someone Dr. Cynthia knew fairly well. After all, Dr. Cynthia had been her group's therapist back when she had gone through the FIB herself, and she had to admit, the girl and her friends had been some of the more memorable that she had treated.

As soon as Dr. Cynthia stepped through the front door, ringing the little bell that hung overhead, the witch who was working as baker that day brightened. "And there she is," she said. "The day after the big meeting party. Like clockwork."

"If it ain't broke," Dr. Cynthia said. Already her mouth was starting to water.

The baker knew exactly what she wanted, and started to pick out a selection of frosted lemon cakes from the display. "So, how's this year's crop?"

"Oh, every new year brings its own special flavors of problems and personalities. No real big issues just yet, but I've got my eye on a couple."

"Well, those girls are lucky to have you helping them," the baker remarked as she boxed up the cakes. "I know we sure were."

Her witch remnants were a pair of golden ribbons, in the place of arms and hands.

"Hmmm, well, sure, you were lucky to have _me._ Not sure if it was the same case the other way around."

The baker laughed. "Oh, come on! We weren't _that_ bad, were we?"

"You did give me more than one sleepless night," Dr. Cynthia said. "How is the gang, by the way?"

The baker's eyes lit up, as they always did "Oh, we're all doing great! Char just got a new job, actually!"

"Oh!" That was right, Charlotte had been looking. "Well, congratulations! Even if she's not here right now. Second-degree congratulations, once-removed? Uh, where at?"

"The library!"

Dr. Cynthia nodded. "Oh, that makes perfect sense. You couldn't get her out of the one at the FIB."

"She still means to have one of her own books in there," the baker remarked as she began ringing Dr. Cynthia up, the tips of her ribbons working the register as deftly as if she had fingers. "Now, if she would only stop procrastinating and actually write one."

Dr. Cynthia laughed. "Well, it's not like she doesn't have all the time in the world. What about the other two?"

"Oh, same as always. Tavi's still doing freelance diving. She's been gone most of the week, actually. Apparently several sea turtles are migrating through Freehaven's waters, so she's been helping the researchers over at the _Aurora Borealis_ chart their path.

The _Aurora Borealis_ was a marine laboratory stationed off the coast of Freehaven. Given the influx of extraterrestrial life drifting in from other territories in the afterlife, it was any marine scientist's dream. "That sounds like something she'd be all over. Has she released any new music lately?"

"Not lately, but she does say she gets her best ideas while swimming, so I'd expect her to be spending a lot of time in the studio once she gets back."

Dr. Cynthia made a face. "I hope it's a little more mild than that last album she put out. I mean, the melodies were as good as always, but the style…what did she call it?" She handed over her bank card.

"Grindcore." The baker made a face. "And I'm with you there. Char actually loved it. No accounting for taste, I guess." Registering the transaction, she handed Dr. Cynthia her card back.

The transaction was complete and the cakes paid for, but Dr. Cynthia wasn't ready to leave just yet. "What about Phe? Does she still do that competitive dancing thing?"

"Oh, you can't stop her. With Oktavia out of the house most days, Phe's been spending her free time training over at the dance studio. Apparently there's this vaskergoros dancer that's been making waves on the local circuit, so of course Phe's taking that as a challenge."

Dr. Cynthia blinked. Of all the different species to have been contacted by the Incubators and thus wind up in the afterlife that magical girls from all across the universe shared, the vaskergoros were easily the most physically intimidating. Standing on average around three to four meters tall, they resembled what one would get if the Abominable Snowman gained four arms and huge tusks. Dr. Cynthia herself had almost screamed and ran away the first time she saw one.

Of course, she had long worked her way past that, as the vaskergoros had turned out to be perfectly pleasant. A sociable species with a deep and rich culture, they got along quite well with their human neighbors, and a couple were now counted among Dr. Cynthia's personal friends.

Even so, she wouldn't want to challenge one to any kind of physical contest.

"Well, best of luck to her," Dr. Cynthia remarked. Then she smirked. "Oh, that reminds me. Your bird showed up at the FIB again."

The baker paused. "Oh, no," she sighed.

Even though Dr. Cynthia didn't really have a problem with the foul-mouthed fowl showing up on occasion to scream at people, she did like to lecture his owners about it. "Now normally that wouldn't be a problem, since he never does much more than scream profanities, but I was showing a new group around, so…"

The baker held up both ribbons in a placating manner. "I am so sorry. I swear, we've been trying to break him of that swearing habit, but he refuses to learn anything else! I think it's out of spite."

"It's fine, it's fine," Dr. Cynthia laughed. "Honestly, I think the girls just thought it was funny."

"It is," the baker said, though her right eye had developed a noticeable twitch. "Most of the time. I'll talk to Ophelia. It's her fault he's gotten such a filthy mouth."

Dr. Cynthia nodded. Then she picked up her purchases and straightened up. "Anyway, I'd better get back." She turned toward the door while waving over her shoulder. "Take care of yourself, Candeloro! Give my love to the gang!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the wait, guys. I've got like a ton of other projects and they took precedence. But there will be a bunch of WN updates over the next few weeks.
> 
> Until next time, everyone!


	8. Old Friends, New Names, Part 1

Another tour.

It had been a few months since Homulilly and Gretchen had first arrived at, what was for all intents and purposes, their afterlife. It had been a few months since they had been picked up at Doomsday Clock and taken to the seaside town of Freehaven, populated by the spirits of dead girls who had decided to carve out some semblance of a normal life in a place that was decidedly abnormal. It had been a few months since they had joined a small group of other girls, all who had, at one point or another, made a contract with an extraterrestrial being known as an "Incubator," gaining power and responsibilities in return for the granting of a single wish. It had been a few months since they had all learned that the whole thing was one big con, that the Incubators were feeding on them through the contracts that they made, and that they were doomed to either die in battle or one day become the very monsters that they were fighting, and that some of them already had, only regaining their humanity, but not their memories, through death.

It had been a few months since all of that, a few months spent at the Freehaven Integration Bureau, an organization geared toward helping the newly dead come to terms with their own deaths and hopefully build a new life for themselves.

And Homulilly still didn't know how she felt about the place.

Every morning she and Gretchen would wake up in the small apartment that they shared. That part she liked. Their apartment may not be large, but it was _theirs,_ their own little sanctuary, isolated from the weirdness of the rest of the world, with just her and Gretchen.

But after that would come breakfast, which was taken with the rest of the girls. That had been rough enough when it had just been the witches, but now the magical girls were with them as well. True, there weren't many of them, but it was still more people being constantly around.

Still, she had endured, she had stayed quiet, she had tolerated. And in time, she was coming to get used to them as well. So long as they stayed away from her, she could put up with them.

But there was always something looming in the background, a dark cloud on the horizon, a day in which her world would again grow larger against her will, a day when she would have to step outside where she felt safe into something bigger and scarier.

The day in which the girls would be shown around the town.

Of _course_ everyone else had been looking forward to it. Of _course_ the closer the day got, the more everyone was talking about it. Freehaven looked so beautiful, so cool, so wonderful! Oh, I can't wait to actually be in that beautiful city, to meet the other magical girls and witches, to get a taste of my new home!

Homulilly, however, could do without any of that. She was sure that Freehaven was a nice place, but all she needed was her small apartment with her best friend. She didn't care about going anywhere else.

Alas, she had no choice. The trip was mandatory, the day unavoidable.

And now that day had come.

Now it was time to be shown the city that house their new home. It was time to see Freehaven.

"Oh, can't wait, can't wait," Gretchen sang to herself as she fussed around in the bathroom. She was already dressed, but she was double and triple checking her appearance in the mirror, making sure her hair was perfect while applying some blush to her cheeks. Earlier that week Gretchen had suddenly felt that if they were to be shown the city, then she ought to have some kind of makeup, because it was their first time going out in public and she wanted to look her best. She had started asking around, wondering if any of the other girls knew how to get some, expecting there to be some kind of black-market for such goods, but to her surprise the FIB had caught wind of her requests and just gave her some.

"Well, yeah," had been the caretaker's bemused response. "So long as you're neat, why couldn't you?"

Personally, Homulilly felt that Gretchen looked just fine without it, but if it made her happy, then she wasn't going to object. She finished straightening her uniform, made sure that her gloves were in place, and waited for Gretchen to finish up.

"All done!" Gretchen whirled around and spread her arms. "Tah-dah! What do you think?"

Homulilly blinked.

And then she giggled.

"Huh?" Gretchen said.

Homulilly quickly composed herself. "Um, you might have gone a little overboard with the eyeliner there."

"I did?" Gretchen turned back to the mirror. "Oh no, you're right, I did! But I thought I had followed the instructions perfectly! Uh, er, um…"

"All right, calm down." Homulilly walked over to her and picked up the washcloth. "It should be easy to fix."

She helped Gretchen wipe away the excess makeup and, studying the directions that had come with the kit, reapply where it was needed. "See? There you go! Sometimes less is more."

Gretchen beamed at her reflection. "You're right. Thank you so much!"

Smiling, Homulilly nodded and walked from the bathroom. Then she closed her eyes and breathed in deep.

 _I can do this,_ she said. _I won't have to actually do anything or talk to anyone. It's just a tour. I just have to follow the rest of the group, and then we can go home._

"Um, Lily-chan?"

Homulilly breathed out and turned back to her best (and honestly, _only)_ friend. "Hmmm?"

Gretchen was fidgeting, the tips of her legs curling up, a sure sign that she had an uncomfortable question but wasn't sure how to ask it. "H-How come you, uh…"

Homulilly sighed. "It's okay. You can ask it. I won't be offended."

"O-Okay. Um, how come you're so cool and confident when doing things in _here,_ but you get so, you know…"

"Shy?"

Gretchen nodded. "Everyone we've met is so nice! And I know lots that would love to be your friend! You know, like Lindy-chan, Zhao-chan…"

Homulilly sighed. "Because…I don't _want_ to be friends with them! They're fine, I don't hate them or anything, but we all wouldn't even be together if the FIB didn't make us! It was pure chance! Besides, you're the only friend I need."

Gretchen fell into a thoughtful silence for a bit. Then she said, "Well, _I_ think you should at least try. It could be good for you!"

Right. Good for her. Sighing again, Homulilly just turned toward the door. The day was going to be stressful enough without starting it off with an argument.

…

"All right, everyone here?"

The class was gathered in the plaza in front of the FIB's central building. At the head of the group were three caretakers. First was Dr. Cynthia, of course. There was also a tall Arab girl with bright orange eyes who wore a spotless orange burqa in addition to her caretaker uniform. Her name was Dr. Rizwana, and she had been to the Puella Magi what Dr. Cynthia had been to the witches, the one mainly in charge of getting them used to their new lives before they were introduced to the rest of the class.

And then there was the one with the short, curly, dark hair, whom Homulilly had since learned was named Dr. Alice. Now that the two groups had been merged, she now seemed to be the one in charge of the class as a whole.

Dr. Alice looked around the group and smiled. "Okay girls!" she said, clasping her hands. "Who's ready to have her world grow a whole lot bigger?"

A smattering of clapping and a few whoops went up in response, including Gretchen, and not including Homulilly.

"Then follow me." Dr. Alice turned and walked to the front gate, and everyone followed.

Everyone crossed over the threshold that led to the streets without hesitation, but Homulilly held back a bit. She looked down at the ground, where the concrete of the FIB courtyard met the differently colored tiles of the streets of Freehaven. Until now, the FIB had been the only world she had ever really known. And just when it had started to feel safe and familiar, she had to leave, and even though it was only for a little bit, she still didn't care to.

Gretchen, who had been holding onto her hand, noticed the pause. "Homulilly-chan?" she said, tilting her head. "What's wrong?"

 _Do it for her._ Forcing what she hoped was a disarming smile, Homulilly said, "Nothing!" and hurried to catch up.

Though she had never set foot into the city at large until now, Homulilly had still seen enough from windows, pictures, and descriptions to know what it was like. Built upon the slope of a tall hill that extended down to the sea, Freehaven was a town of tall buildings with white walls, arching windows and doorway, and flat roofs made from dark red tiles. Tiered towers with curving corners rose up here and there, and from what she could tell, all the roads were really, really narrow, sandwiched between the buildings like an endless network of alleyways.

Fortunately, the road they were on was wide enough, and the buildings small with more space between them. At least Homulilly didn't have to feel crowded in as well as too exposed.

Their path took them down into what looked like a public park, albeit a small one. It was a perfect square, with walkways between grassy knolls and shady trees. In the center was a great marble found surrounded by benches, and surrounding the park itself were several small businesses. Homulilly glanced around and saw a shoe store, an ice cream parlor, and a bakery.

Dr. Alice led the class into the park, stopping only when she reached the fountain.

"Okay, girls," she said, turning toward the group. "Welcome to Freehaven. Now, we at the FIB understand what a scary, tumultuous, and traumatic your first few weeks are, and your safety and mental well-being are among our tops priorities. However, we also do not believe that being forcibly isolated from the world at large is healthy. So in three months time, you will all gain access to what is referred to as the 'protected zone,' a part of Freehaven that is jointly controlled by the FIB and is freely available to everyone."

A round of murmurs went up in response to this. "So, we can go out by ourselves?" asked Brittney.

"So long as you stay within the protected zone, which consists of everything you see in this square, as well as several other points, which will be detailed to you in time. Anyone wishing to explore the greater city at large needs a caretaker along as a chaperone, or two pre-approved Freehaven residents. But as time passes you'll gain more freedom to go where you please."

"Why here though?" Shiloh asked. "Are there like cameras watching this place?"

"There are," Dr. Alice said calmly. "Among other things."

Shiloh frowned. "That sounds…kind of Big Brother."

"Big Sister, actually. And I understand that being under surveillance might rankle, but understand that it is for a reason. There is a delicate balance between to much protection and too little, and we dance on that knife's edge every day." Her face turned sad for a moment. "Trust me, we've had plenty of times to make mistakes."

Homulilly wondered what she was implying by that, and if she really wanted to know the answer.

Vendel then raised her hand. "Okay, but, like, what good do all these stores do us?" she said. "It's not like any of us have any money."

"Yet," Dr. Alice told her. "Once you're given access to the outside, you will also be provided with a weekly allowance of seventy-five talents each."

Talents were, as far as Homulilly was able to gauge, the local currency, though she still didn't know what the exchange rate was compared to what they had back in the world of the living.

"Money?" Lucy said, perking up. "And we can spend it on whatever we like?"

"Within reason. I'd ask that you refrain from participating in the drug trade or the trafficking of exotic animals. We have enough headaches to deal with as it is without you all getting blasted on dream drops or letting valks run about the place."

That got a few giggles, but also a few blank stared.

"What are dream drops?" Claudia said.

"What are _valks?"_ added Heather.

"A type of drug and a type of exotic animal, neither of which we want in our buildings," Dr. Alice said primly. "And now, I think we'd better visit our first stop of the day. The public library."

…

"Holy moly!" Iris blurted out as Dr. Alice led the group in through the front doors of the Freehaven Public Library. Several murmured agreements rose up. Homulilly just bleakly looked up in dismay. Once again, it was too big.

She had thought that the FIB library was huge, but of course this one had to be bigger. A four-story building, it shunned the traditional white walls and flat red roof of its neighbors and instead was designed more in line with classic Roman architecture, complete with rising columns and marble statues.

Inside though, it seemed that the aesthetic they were going for was the sunken city of Atlantis. It preserved the Romanian look, but now it had been deliberately designed to appear as if it were being consumed by coral, with painted representations of sealife along the marble columns, book shelves, and walls.

Dr. Alice led the group down the waxed center walkway of black stone to the central rotunda, which got another chorus of oohs and ahs from the group. The interior of the central dome was of blue glass, and refracted light in such a way that gave it a hazy, underwater quality. The shapes of fish, turtles, and even a whale slowly swam just outside the dome, probably a magical effect of some kind.

"Now, the library is one of the oldest buildings in Freehaven," Dr. Alice told them. She took them to a glassed-in display, in which was what looked like a section of wall made from cracked grey clay and reed. "When it was first constructed, it was a simple mud hut used to keep clay tablets and early papyrus scrolls out of the heat. It now towers at a full four stories high and two stories down and takes up an entire city block. Perhaps not large when compared to modern skyscrapers, especially not when you have structures like Steel City to account for, but the wealth of accumulated knowledge is second to none."

"Steel City?" Jordan asked.

"Oh, I know this one!" Brittney cut in. "That's that one city that's just one really, really tall skyscraper, right?"

"Exactly!" Dr. Cynthia said. "Two-thousand, six-hundred and seventy-four stories tall. However, Steel City is a one-of-a-kind outlier that is really unfair to be compared to."

Homulilly felt her insides squirm. There was a building that was over _two-thousand stories tall?_ Why was everything so _big?_

Then Gretchen nudged Homulilly with her elbow. "Homulilly," she whispered. "Look."

Though she dreaded seeing another weird and uncomfortable thing, Homulilly looked.

Gretchen was pointing to a pair of girls that were standing together in the stacks, talking to one another, both of them witches. The taller of the two, who was wearing a white-and-pink striped shirt and a tight pair of brown capri pants, had short pink hair and baby-blue eyes. Her skin was bone-white, and she had a small, slender black tail with pink polka-dots sticking out of the back of her pants, and seemed to be one of the librarians, as she had a name tag and was shelving books from a cart. The shorter was a blonde girl wearing stonewashed jeans and a white blouse, who had a pair of golden ribbons instead of arms coming out of her sleeves.

Homulilly stared blankly at them. To her, it was just another pair of witches. They had seen others like them every day. "What about them?" she said.

"The blonde girl, with the ribbons! Doesn't she look kind of familiar?"

Homulilly looked again. Now that Gretchen had mentioned it, there was something weirdly familiar about her. Though Homulilly was fairly certain that she had never seen her in her admittedly short life, she was getting the weirdest sense of déjà vu from her.

"You know, she kind of does," Homulilly said, frowning. "But where though?"

"Maybe we've seen her at the FIB and just never really noticed her?"

"No, I don't think so. It's…It's like I've met her in a dream or something."

Right about then, almost as if she had sensed that she was being watched, the blonde suddenly turned her head to look straight at them. She blinked, and tilted her head in bemusement.

Homulilly and Gretchen hastily looked away.

"Oops," Gretchen muttered. "I hope she doesn't think that we're weird."

Homullily briefly glanced back. The blonde was still staring at them, her face all twisted up. She said something to the librarian, who shot them a look and just shrugged.

"Uh, she's still looking at us."

"I hope she doesn't think we're rude."

Normally that would be exactly what Homulilly feared, but now she wasn't so sure if that was the case. "Hey," she said. "What if she recognizes us too?"

"All right, girls!" Dr. Alice suddenly called, making Homulilly jump a little. "We're moving on!"

…

"Holy _shit!"_

Homulilly did not know who it was that had cried out when the class entered the Magi's Gifts Emporium. It could have been any one of them, honestly, or even several at once. Maybe it had been herself that had said it. It didn't matter; the impression was shared by all.

The Magi's Gifts Emporium was aptly named. Even in a world carved out of magic, it seemed like walking into a wonderland. The whole store rose two stories high, with the ceiling made from prismatic glass that broke up the sunlight into dazzling colors. Colorful kites and ribbons hung from the ceiling alongside model flying machines and birds delicately woven from glass, crystal, and precious metals. A tiny golden train track wove around the ribbons and the models without a visible means of support, on which a model train chugged contently along.

Directly in front of them were four large glass cases, and each one contained an intricately detailed model city. The one of Freehaven was immediately recognizable, starting with the top of the hill and ending with a carefully painted ocean. But there was also one that depicted what appeared to be a mountain town, full of pine trees and brown houses with green sloping roofs…and a strange but lovely series of crystalline structures made from what looked like woven volcanic glass connected by several glass rails. In another was something that honestly looked like an alien spaceship, made from several round platforms containing all sorts of gracefully curving structures connected by the same kind of glass rails. And another seemed to be a cutaway of an underground city, one of white tunnels and gracefully curving architecture.

And beyond those were the shelves.

There seemed to be no end to them. Shelves upon shelves upon shelves, all towering high, all loaded with things that sparkled, things that glowed, things that moved, and things that made noise. It seemed as if the treasure hoards of every fantasy story had been looted just to stock the store.

"I'm, uh…" Marty said, staring. "Wow. This is…"

"Shiny," Vendel breathed. It was the first time Homulilly had seen her excited. Her eyes were glittering what Homulilly felt a pirate's would upon spying a hoard of gold. Which wouldn't be too far off.

"Lovely, isn't it?" Dr. Alice said. She swept a hand out at the wealth before them. "This is, as you'd imagine, one of the premier destinations of Freehaven. After all, what's the point of having a city of magical girls if your shopping needs were not magical themselves."

"Oh, please, please, _please_ tell me we're going shopping!" Heather exclaimed. "I need this! I absolutely need this!"

"With what money?" Dr. Rizwana said in amusement.

Heather looked like someone had just shot her best friend, so Lillian, her actual best friend, sympathetically patted her shoulder.

"But…we _can_ spend that allowance you talked about earlier here, right?" Vendel said. "I mean, once we get access to the outside."

"Certainly. But I warn you, this place can be a little pricey."

"Oh, that won't be a problem _at all,"_ Vendel purred. Homulilly wondered what she meant by that, and if she really wanted to know the answer.

"Fortunately, we _can_ have a look around," Dr. Cynthia said. "So-"

Lucy, Heather, Lillian, and Ava immediately rushed past her. And once they were off, everyone else was too. Even Homulilly couldn't resist hurrying to see the wonders.

"Look at that," Gretchen breathed once they were in the shelves, which rose so high that Homulilly had to crane her neck to see the top. It was honestly hard to figure out what Gretchen was referring to. One section contained a display of what looked like eggs carved from gemstones, though giving the way they were glowing she would not be surprised if they could actually hatch. Another held ornate tea sets that actually stood up and walked around on tiny feet, serving their owners without needing for anything to be picked up. One glassed-in display held what actually looked like tiny dinosaurs moving around a miniaturized version of prehistoric Earth, complete with a tiny volcano. For a moment Homulilly thought that they actually had created shrunk-down dinosaurs, until she saw a sign that said, _Ambulatory Toys – Not Actually Alive._

"Whoa," Zhao said, standing next to them. "But, um, how does anyone get the stuff on the high shelves?"

Dr. Rizwana, who was nearby, pointed. "Using those."

Homulilly then saw what looked like steel handholds protruding from the sides of the shelves. "Wait, you have to _climb?"_ she said.

"Uh-huh!"

"But…isn't that…dangerous? I mean, what if you fall, or step on something, or knock it over?"

Dr. Rizwana laughed. "Oh, don't worry! There are so many protective field around the merchandise that you couldn't even scuff them! I would love to see you try to actually break something in here! Actually, don't. It annoys the staff."

That…still didn't seem to be the most practical way of doing things, but Homulilly didn't feel like arguing.

They continued wandering on through the maze of shelves, gawking at everything from floating globs of quicksilver that twisted them into a variety of shapes to bejeweled weapons.

"Homulilly-chan, look at this!" Gretchen suddenly exclaimed.

It was another glassed-in display, this one containing glass kittens, each one a different color. And they were moving: some wandering around the display, some rolling around wrestling, some sleeping, all of them behaving like living kittens.

Ava and Carly were already pressing their faces to the display. "Aw," Carly said, tapping the glass, which attracted the attention of the green kitten. It started pawing at where her finger was touching. "That's so freaking _cute!"_

"Are they actually alive?" Ava asked.

"Afraid not," Dr. Rizwana remarked. "They're animated by magic to act like actual kittens. They do have something of a mind of their own though."

Gretchen stared longingly at them. "I'd like a kitten. Maybe I could save up?"

"Uh, I don't know." Carly pointed at a list of prices. "That might take a while."

Gretchen paled when she read the prices. "Oh, wow. That's…expensive."

Tapping her lower lip, Homulilly stared thoughtfully at the kittens.

They continued on, moving deeper and deeper. There seemed to be no end of stuff to look at, stuff to dream about.

Suddenly Gabrielle and Amirah came running up to them. "Guys," Amirah said breathlessly. "Get this: they have a _mermaid!"_

Gretchen immediately lit up. "You mean, one you could buy as a pet, or-"

"No, I mean working here!"

"Ah, you met her," Dr. Cynthia said, coming up to them.

Gabrielle stared. "You knew about this?"

"Relax, she's just a resident. Actually, you should leave her alone. She teaches music classes out of the store, and probably doesn't want anyone disturbing her lesson."

"I…" Then Gabrielle's face fell. "Wow, okay. Mermaids are…normal now. Don't know how I feel about that."

"It does make them feel kind of less special," Amirah said.

Dr. Cynthia shrugged. "Well, even in the stories, mermaids are just people with different anatomy who live in the ocean instead of on land. Though don't be too bummed out. She's the only mermaid I know of."

Homulilly then noticed Gretchen staring toward the back of the store with an odd look on her face. "Come on," she said, tugging on Homulilly's sleeve.

"Gretchen-chan?" Homulilly said, tilting her head.

Gretchen smiled back sheepishly. "I just want to see the mermaid."

"But…Dr. Cynthia said…"

"I'm not going to bother her, I just want to see her! She won't even see me."

Sighing, Homulilly let herself get dragged along.

The two made their way to the other end of the store. There, they found an entire wall covered with musical instruments of every kind, from violins to saxophones to several strange, elegantly carved devices that Homulilly was pretty sure were extraterrestrial. Iris would probably know the name to every single one.

Sure enough, there she was, talking excitedly to a girl that seemed to be about Homulilly and Gretchen's age, a girl wearing a green-and-black striped tee-shirt and a brown newsboy cap. The girl was seated in some kind of futuristic mobile chair, like a wheelchair that had its wheels replaced with four mechanical spider-like legs, which were currently inert, tucked in tightly to the chair. A special kind of harness stretched in in the front of the chair, likely intended to support the owner's lifeless legs.

However, it was evident that this girl wasn't in that chair due to some kind of injury or disability, but because she had no legs at all. Instead, she had a large fish tail stretched out into the harness, one that shimmered with scales of blue, black, green, and maroon, like the sunset on the ocean.

It _was_ a mermaid, a living, breathing mermaid. But while that was very cool, Homulilly suddenly found her eyes drawn not to the girl's tail, but to her face, with round, chubby cheeks, a little button-nose, and wide, friendly eyes of a bright blue. Under her cap her shaggy hair dropped just past her ears and was the same blue hue as her eyes.

"Oh, my God," Gretchen whispered. "Homulilly, it's just like the ribbon girl! Do you know her?"

"I…maybe? She seems really familiar."

"I know! But where do we know her from? I think I'd remember a mermaid!"

Then, almost as if she sensed that she was being watched, the mermaid looked up from her conversation with Iris to stare right at them. As soon as she saw their faces, her eyes went wide.

Homulilly and Gretchen hastily ducked back into the safety of the shelves. "Did you see that?" Gretchen said. "She saw us! She recognized us too!"

"Maybe she was just wondering why we were spying on her."

"No, she recognized us too! I'm sure of-"

"All right, girls!" Dr. Iris called. "Everyone to the front of the store! We're moving on!"

Homulilly and Gretchen exchanged a look. Then, with the sigh, they did as they were told, heading back to the main entrance.

"I do know her from something," Gretchen said stubbornly. "I wish I knew where!"

Homulilly glanced over her shoulder. "Well, they said we can come back on our own. Maybe we'll meet her again."

Gretchen blinked. Then she smiled. "See? I knew you'd want to make friends once we've met the right person!"

Homulilly scowled.

…

This time, the class was led into the city itself, deep into the maze of towering white walls and narrow winding streets.

"It's amazing," Gretchen whispered as she stared up.

From the ground floor, Freehaven seemed to stretch up and up, the whiteness of the walls broken up by arching windows, balconies, even walkways stretching from one building to the other. Some of the windows were decorated with hanging plants, others were colorful strands of silk, others with strings of sparkling crystals, giving it an exotic feel.

"Look, monkeys!" Carly exclaimed, pointing.

Sure enough, a pair of brown monkeys were hanging from one window, idly watching the class pass below.

"Do they belong to someone?" Heather wanted to know.

"Could be," Dr. Cynthia said. "But they might also be wild. We have a lot of wild animals wandering around."

Then Jordan's eyes sparkled in an unpleasant way. Light collected around her right hand, and she was suddenly holding an ornate glaive of gold and blue. "Hey, who wants to see if I can take their tails off?" she said, reaching back to throw.

Everyone near her immediately recoiled in shock. "Whoa, hey!" Linda said, raising her hands and all of her spider legs. "No need for that! They're just monkeys, living their monkey lives!"

"Yeah, what the hell, Jordan?" Ava said in disgust.

"Seriously, that's messed up," Lucy added.

Jordan looked surprised by the negative response. "What?" she said, wilting a bit. "Oh, come on! It was just a joke! I wasn't gonna-"

"Jordan!"

Dr. Rizwana was glowering right at her. "Put that away," she commanded.

Jordan winced. "Whatever," she muttered, and the glaive disappeared.

Moments later they got moving again, though more silently this time, the mood killed. Homulilly and Gretchen shuffled to the other end of the group away from Jordan, who was sulkily staring at the ground.

Even with the damper, the city was still interesting to look at. Despite how narrow the street was, there still were plenty of entrances set in the walls, and occasionally someone, either a Puella Magi or a witch, would come out and be on their way. When that happened, all the girls had to crowd along one wall to let them pass.

"Why is everything so narrow?" Amaya complained. "How does anyone get anywhere like this?"

"Freehaven wasn't built with cars in mind. Most of you probably already know this, but travel in Freehaven isn't usually done on the ground level. After all, we are all magical girls. And we have our own way of getting around."

She paused next to a segment of wall. Set in it was a series of sequential grooves that stretched all the way up to the roof.

"Wait," Vendel said. "That looks like a ladder."

"That's because it is a ladder!" Dr. Alice stuck her right hand and foot into the grooves. "Everybody up!"

As the class all stared, Dr. Alice scrambled up the side of the wall with all the agility and deftness of one of the monkeys they had seen.

"You have got to be kidding me," Vendel said.

"What?" Carly said. "This isn't so bad. I used to climb walls and leap from building to building every night!"

" _You_ did! Me? I spent my entire life cooped up in therapy. All five weeks of it!"

"You still have the same strength and agility," Dr. Cynthia told her. "Believe me, this will be a cakewalk."

"What does that even mean? Who walks around carrying cakes?"

"All right, this is more my speed!" Linda said suddenly. She entwined her fingers, flipped her hands around, and cracked the knuckles. Then she hopped onto the wall and, ignoring the grooves, used the spider legs protruding from her back to carrying her all the way up the wall.

"Oh, that is so disturbing," Amaya said.

Then Lucy pushed her way to the front of the group. "Hey, _LINDY!"_

Now at the top, Linda leaned over the side of the roof. "Yeah?"

With no warning whatsoever, Lucy pulled her head right off and held it in both hands, making everyone around her recoil in shock. "Catch!"

"Lucy, wait-" Dr. Cynthia started to say, but it was too late. Lucy had already lobbed her head all the way up the side of the building.

"Oh!" Linda hastily grabbed at Lucy's head, but her fingers fumbled. She tried again and again, causing it to bounce off her hands each time. Then in desperation, she thrust out with both hands and all spider legs, finally catching it in a cage. Breathing a sigh of relief, she brought Lucy's head safely away from the edge. "Okay, I got it, Lucy!"

"Dude, you don't have to shout, my ears are up here now! Now, point me down so I can see what I'm doing!"

Down below, the rest of the girls couldn't seem to decide if they were going to stare at the giant spider-girl's conversation with the severed head in her hands or the headless body standing casually among them.

Then Lucy's body rubbed her hands together and grabbed onto the grooves and began ascending. She was a little awkward with her timing at first, but she soon fell into a rhythm and shot up the side almost as quick as Dr. Alice, and soon she was standing with Dr. Alice and Linda at the top, placing her head back onto her shoulders.

Then Brittney stepped forward. "Okay," she said, lowering herself down into a sprinter's stance. "If she can do it headless, then so can I! But only, um, not headless. Because I can't take off my head. Yeah, that's what I meant."

She shot up the side of the wall, not even bothering with the grooves until she was at least three meters up, and was soon up with the others.

Then Carly stepped forward. "Okay, this'll be easy," she said. "Just like old times!"

It was, and after she had gone up another did as well, and then another, and another.

"C'mon, Homulilly-chan!" Gretchen said, tugging at Homulilly's arm. She started to move forward, only to stop when she realized that Homulilly hadn't move.

"Hmmm?" Gretchen turned toward her friend. "What's wrong?"

Homulilly stared up at the vertical wall, nearly cowering beneath its height. It was too tall, and the grooves too shallow, and she knew that she was too weak. "I c-can't," she said. "It's…I can't!"

She wasn't the only one. The small American girl, Shiloh, was also hanging back. "I…I don't know," she said. "My town didn't really have any tall buildings. I've never climbed up anything this size!"

Then Dr. Cynthia was there. "It's okay, Homulilly," she said, laying a hand on Homulilly's shoulders. "You can."

"But-"

Dr. Cynthia's motorcycle-headlight eyes shined warmly. "You're not weak at all. This will be as easy as stepping onto a curve."

She gently led Homulilly over to the grooves. "Now, just trust me. Place one hand in here." Though she was still shaking, Homulilly complied, sticking her right hand into one of the grooves.

"Okay, now put your right foot in here."

Homulilly did so.

Dr. Cynthia placed her hands on Homulilly's waist. "Now, push _up!"_

Realizing that she had absolutely no way of backing out and that all eyes were now upon her, Homulilly squeezed her eyes shut, gritted her teeth, and pushed up with her leg and arm.

To her absolutely surprise, she almost flew right up the side of the wall, and would have done just that had Dr. Cynthia not been holding onto her waist.

Gasping, Homulilly looked over her shoulder to see Dr. Cynthia smiling at her. "See?" she said. "You are strong."

"I…"

"A magical girls gain superhuman strength, speed, and agility, and those attributes are not lost when you become a witch. You're just as strong and fast as everyone else."

"I…I am?"

"Of course you are!" Gretchen said. "Remember saving me when we were on that clock? Remember how you were able to pull me back up?"

Homulilly didn't answer. She had always just assumed that, even in a world of magic, she would be the untalented one, the one lagging far behind everyone else.

"Now, let's climb," Dr. Cynthia said.

"Hold on!"

Gretchen suddenly bounded forward, clearing both of their heads, and clung to the wall right over Homulilly, holding onto the grooves with both hands and ten of her twelve legs. The other two reached down and wrapped themselves around Homulilly's shoulders. "Now you definitely won't fall!"

"Ready?" Dr. Cynthia said.

Homulilly took a deep breath. Then she nodded.

The hardest part of the ascent was the first few seconds, but it didn't take long for Homulilly to realize that she wasn't struggling at all. In fact, it was as easy as climbing shallow steps. She pushed up, and she went up, with no exertion at all. Her body, which had been trembling so hard beforehand, now seemed to remember having done this a hundred times. Sure, Gretchen's support helped, but she was pretty sure that she could have made the climb even without it.

The wall had seemed impossibly tall from the bottom, and yet the actual climb took less than fifteen seconds, and soon she, Gretchen, and Dr. Cynthia all had pulled themselves up onto the roof with everyone else.

To Homulilly's relief, most of the rest of the girls hadn't been watching her fight her fear, and those who had, specifically Zhao, Ava, and Linda just smiled and clapped encouragingly.

"Great job!" Linda said. "See? Easy, wasn't it?"

"Uh, yeah," Homulilly breathed, holding a hand to her chest. "It was. But…whew."

Behind them, Shiloh came up as well with Dr. Rizwana's help.

"Wow," she said, her legs wobbling. "I really didn't know how strong I was."

"You still don't," Dr. Rizwana said. "Trust me, there's plenty that you're going to learn about what you can do."

"Really?" Shiloh said with a shy smile. "Well, that's-" Then she caught sight of what the rest of the group was staring at. "-ooooooooh, wooooooooooow!"

Homulilly had noticed too. As had Gretchen. They stood hand-in-hand, staring out in mute wonder.

The skyline of Freehaven stretched out before them, and Homulilly finally understood why the roofs were made flat. The buildings had all been constructed more-or-less on a compatible level, practically forming steps all the way up the hill. And on those rooftops was a whole other city.

There were public gardens were people mulled around together. There were small business set up on top of the larger buildings, from little eateries to shops. There were courts for various sports. There were swimming pools, small parks, and public gathering places. There were even street signs set on building corners to let people know where they were.

And then there were the people themselves. It turned out that the reason the narrow streets weren't as crowded as expected is that everyone was out on top. Homulilly saw plenty of girls milling around on the roofs while others traveled from place to place by running and jumping from roof to roof, clearing the distance more quickly than any vehicle could.

"So _that's_ how people get around!" Vendel said. "Huh."

Claudia scratched her head and frowned. "Won't your legs get tired after a while?"

"Actually, no," Dr. Alice said. "Your stamina has been magically increased as well. A trip downtown won't exhaust you anymore than a stroll to the street corner would." Then she smiled. "So, you girls ready to go traveling?"

Suddenly all the pride Homulilly had felt from scaling the wall was drowned in the ice water that now flooded her stomach. "We're going to…jump from building to building?" she said.

"We're not going far." Dr. Alice pointed to an open plaza on one rooftop a little less than half-a-kilometer away. "And honestly, the gaps are so short you could probably jump them even without super strength."

"Be sure to obey the rules though," Dr. Rizwana said. "Keep to the edges of the roofs, make way for other people, and keep in formation!"

Then Dr. Alice turned to Gretchen. "Gretchen, you look like you're the springiest. Care to take the lead?"

"Me?" Gretchen said, perking up.

"I, uh…" Then Gretchen glanced to Homulilly and saw the pleading in her eyes. "No, thank you. I'm fine."

"Oh, can I?" Lucy said.

Dr. Cynthia frowned. "Is this going to involve throwing your head."

"I mean, it _might."_

"Then no, you may not."

"Oh, for God's sake," Amaya sighed as she stepped forward. "I used to do this shit all the time. I'll go."

She hunkered down and then took off running along the edge of the rooftop they were on. A few meters from the end she took a bounding leap, sailing across the gap, and landed on her feet halfway across the next roof and, without missing a step, was again running.

A few more bounds, and she was standing in the plaza.

"All right, let's go!" Zhao shot off after her, Lucy following close behind. Soon the whole class was leaping from roof to roof.

"C'mon, Homulilly-chan!" Gretchen said. "I don't think I can hold onto you for this one though."

"No, it's fine," Homulilly said. She took a deep breath. "I can…" She closed her eyes and mentally steadied herself. "Okay. I can do this."

Enough of the other girls had already gone to give her a clear path. Homulilly crouched down, calculated the distance in her head, and pushed off into a sprint.

She hadn't done any running…well, pretty much ever, so she wasn't sure how fast she actually was. Despite the ease of her climb, she still half-expected to run out of breath and fall to the ground with cramps in seconds.

Instead, she shot forward so fast that it kind of surprised her, enough that she almost forgot to jump until she was practically at the edge.

When she saw how close she was to running right over the ledge, she panicked, and leapt purely out of instinct.

For one brief, terrifying second she was sailing through the air, higher than she ever thought that she could go, arms and legs flailing while her mouth hung open in a silent scream.

Then the next rooftop rushed up to meet her, and Homulilly suddenly realized that she wasn't preparing to land. She closed her eyes and braced for impact.

The world then spun around in a very strange way, and she felt something slide past her back and shoulders, and the next thing she knew she was… _not_ lying in a painful heap from a bad landing. In fact, she seemed to be fine.

Homulilly opened her eyes. She was crouched on the next roof, one leg with the knee bent and the other braced beneath her.

Huh?

"Are you okay?" Gretchen said, appearing next to her.

Homulilly blinked up at her. "What happened?"

"Uh, well, you jumped really high, and when you landed, you did this sort of really cool rolling thing over your shoulders and came up like that!"

"I…did?"

Homulilly slowly rose up to her feet. She looked down at her gloved hands. "What…What did I…"

Then she saw Dr. Cynthia standing nearby, arms folded as she smiled at her.

"Your body remembers," she said. "Even if your head doesn't. You used to do that sort of thing all the time, probably."

"I did?"

"Sure! I mean, putting everything about the Incubators aside, you were basically a superhero. And you still have most of your powers."

"A superhero?" Homulilly had a sudden image of herself in spandex and capes, leaping from building to building. It was…admittedly silly, but also kind of cool.

"You ready to keep going?" Dr. Cynthia said. Homulilly nodded.

This time, now that she knew that she could clear the gaps with ease, Homulilly chose her path a little more cautiously, not running as fast and taking the jumps in short hops instead of great leaps. It was a little slower than her classmates, but soon she was standing among them, having made the run with as much ease as she had the climb.

"That was fun!" Gretchen gushed. "People really just run across rooftops to get places?"

"Basically," Dr. Cynthia told her as she straightened out her FIB caretaker uniform. "You can take the lower routes if you want, but it is much slower."

Homulilly had to admit, she felt a little giddy as well. That _had_ been exhilarating! She now kind of hoped that they would get to do it again so she could see if she could keep up with the others.

Once everyone was gathered in the middle of the plaza, Dr. Alice clapped her hands to get everyone's attention. "Now, girls," she said. "I know you've all had a lot thrown at you these last few days."

"Oh, yeah," Carly said.

"You can probably say that again," Vendel said dryly.

Dr. Alice nodded. "But there is one thing we've been holding off with until now, an aspect of the afterlife that just as important and just as strange any anything else. And that is-"

"The aliens!" Iris exclaimed. She rose up and down on the balls of her feet and clapped her hands excitedly. "You mean the aliens, right?"

"I do indeed," Dr. Alice said with a nod. "After all, the afterlife is for _all_ who were victimized by the Incubators, regardless of species. And the Incubators contacted several species, so we have a lot of neighbors!" She looked around at everyone's expectant faces. "Would you like to meet one?"

"YYYEEEEESSSSSSSS!" Iris predictably responded.

"Oh, hell yes!" Lucy exclaimed.

"Yes!" Brittney said. "Absolutely. Yes!"

"Then turn around," Dr. Alice suggested.

Homulilly blinked. She hadn't heard anyone else arrive.

"Oooooh myyyyyyyy GAAAAAWD!" Iris squealed.

Reluctantly Homulilly turned with everyone else to see what Iris was so excited about.

There, floating a little over a meter above the ground, was a glowing green sphere. It was about half again as large as a basketball and semi-translucent, with what looked like swirling gasses inside. Sparkling multicolored dots were all over its surface, as if it had been splashed with glitter.

" _Hello!"_ the sphere "said," its high-pitched voice cheerful, crystalline, and entirely inhuman. _"It's nice to meet you-"_

"IT'S A CALLIOPE!" Iris shrieked. She immediately rushed up to the sphere and began running all around it, her eyes whirring with excitement. "Oh, I have _so_ many questions! Is it true that your species lives entirely on water vapor? How does a gaseous lifeform evolve in the first place? Do all the floating crystals on your home planet indicate that it was once solid at some point in its past? Is it true that you invented a style of music made entirely through the bending of light-waves through said crystals?"

" _Yes, we do!"_ said the sphere, sounding as happy to speak with Iris as Iris was to speak with it. _"But we also derive nourishment from microscopic minerals in the water vapor. From single-celled bacteria that used to grow on the crystals. That's the prevailing theory! And there's actually a lot more involving sound waves, but basically, yes we did."_

"So…hold on," Vendel said, her ball-shaped face twisting up in confusion. "This is an alien?"

"Vendel!" Lillian said with a gasp. "Don't be rude."

" _Eh, well, yes and no,"_ said the calliope. _"If I were alive and visiting your home planet of Earth, then yes, I would be. And I suppose I technically count as one in here, as this is a human territory. But since this afterlife is for all magical girls from all over the universe, then I'm as much a native as you are!"_

"EEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" Iris shrieked with delight.

Homulilly remained silent. She knew about calliopes, of course. She had even seen quite a few flying past the windows. But she had never been interested enough to actually study up on them. All she knew was that they looked like Christmas tree ornaments, they got around through flying, and apparently they had been friends with humans for a very long time.

"Okay girls," Dr. Alice said, walking up to the sphere. "This here is an old friend of mine. Meet, and I swear I am not making this up, Bellyache."

" _Bellyache?"_ Amaya said, her jaw dropping. "Your name is _Bellyache?"_

Shiloh gawked at her in shock. "Hey! Don't be rude!"

" _Oh, don't worry about it,"_ the calliope said. _"Yup! It is Bellyache! And nope! I wasn't aware of the definition when I chose it, but I have been made aware since. But I kept it since it's funny."_

"Wait, you chose your name?" Brittney said, scratching the back of her neck.

"Oh, I know this one!" Iris said, waving her hand as she hopped up and down. "It's because calliope names are actually completely incomprehensible in any known human language, so they all chose backup names when interacting with other species! And since humans were the first they ever met, they traditionally use human words for their backup names!"

" _Exactly! And in my defense, they just gave us a list of human words to choose from, and I went with the one that sounded the nicest. They didn't include definitions!"_

"Oooh," Brittney said, her eyes glimmering with interest. "So what would you _real_ name sound like?"

Bellyache responded with a bizarre sound that sounded like a shrill rapid-fire mash-up of wind chimes and water drops into a crystal glass. A few of the girls winced, Homulilly among them.

"Oh, wow," Linda said, rubbing her head. "I see what you mean. I wouldn't know how to begin even _thinking_ that name, much less pronouncing it!"

However, as everyone excitedly asked Bellyache question after question, Homulilly actually found her eyes drawn to something else.

A parrot was flying overhead, a scarlet macaw. That in itself wasn't unusual, as parrots were pretty common in Freehaven. In addition to the one that had cursed them out in the garden, Homulilly often saw exotic birds of all kinds flying free. But something about this one was grabbing Homulilly's attention.

She watched the parrot's path as it sailed past, heading for another rooftop not far from where the group was gathered. There, it dropped down to land on an outstretched arm, one covered by a red sleeve.

There was a girl sitting on a bench on that roof, a girl wearing what looked to be a tailored bright red pantsuit, complete with slacks, a blazer, and shiny red shoes. She had on a wide-brimmed red hat tilted forward at a jaunty angle, and, as far as Homulilly could tell, no hair underneath. Once the parrot was perched on her arm, she brought it into her lap and started speaking to it in low tones while scratching its neck.

Homulilly frowned. She had plenty of weirder looking people wearing even more eccentric outfits and hadn't given them a second look. But there was just something about this girl in particular that gripped her attention and refused to let go, something so tantalizingly familiar. It was the same feeling she had when noticing the blonde with the ribbons or the blue-haired mermaid, that persisten sense of déjà vu.

"You see her too?" Gretchen said in a low voice.

"Yeah."

"And you feel it too?"

Homulilly nodded. "I do."

"Huh. That's the third girl today. I wonder what that's all about?"

Homulilly shrugged. It seemed like there was something weird and inexplainable around every corner.

Then, just as the other two strangely familiar girls had done, the girl in red seemed to sense that she was being watched, and turned to look directly at them. And despite the distance between them, Homulilly could tell that her eyes were the same bright red as her outfit.

The red girl titled her head and frowned, and Homulilly and Gretchen hastily looked away.

"She recognizes us," Gretchen said.

"Yeah," Homulilly said. "So did the other two. Why do you think that is?"

Gretchen shook her head. "I don't know. But I think we'd better find out."


	9. Old Friends, New Names, Part 2

Old Friends, New Names, Part 2

Homulilly didn't like to do things without Gretchen.

She didn't like going to the group meetings without Gretchen. She didn't like going to meals without Gretchen. She didn't like going to the library without Gretchen. She didn't like going for walks without Gretchen. She didn't even like staying in their shared apartment without Gretchen.

Gretchen made her feel safe. Gretchen was the only person in the world that Homulilly really trusted enough to talk to, to confide in. Gretchen was the only person that Homulilly could let her guard down around, the only person that Homulilly didn't mind seeing the skeletal horror that was her hands, arms, shoulders, and upper back. Gretchen was the only person that truly accepted Homulilly.

And that was kind of the problem.

Homulilly sat in Dr. Cynthia's office, arms clutched to her chest, staring down at the tea table between her and the counselor. And for the first time, she sat alone.

Normally when she was there, she was there with Gretchen, and the two of them would sit side-by-side on the couch to talk to Dr. Cynthia. But the couch was gone, replaced by a comfortable easy chair the exact same color and style as the couch. Whether Dr. Cynthia had replaced it in anticipation of Homulilly's solo visit or had used magic to shrink it down into a one-seater, Homulilly neither knew nor cared. She just knew that she would feel infinitely more comfortable if Gretchen was with her.

But the sad fact of the matter was that no matter how close they were, no matter how comfortable Homulilly felt around Gretchen, no matter how safe Gretchen made her feel, there were still things that Homulilly couldn't tell even her, things that she couldn't talk about with Gretchen or even bring up when Gretchen was there.

And so she was by herself.

"I just…I just feel…" Homulilly started say, but then stopped. No, she couldn't say _that._

"It's okay, Homulilly," Dr. Cynthia said. "You can say whatever you like."

"I just…I just feel like maybe Gretchen would be happier if she wasn't, you know…" Homulilly's head bowed, and the rest of her thought came out in more of a mumble. "…stuck with me."

Truthfully, Homulilly probably should have sought out Dr. Cynthia's help a lot sooner, but even she hadn't expected to have gotten to this point. She and Gretchen had been out for a walk in the FIB gardens, wandering around the desert-like arid zone, when they had come across a few of the older students, those who had been part of the integration program for a while. And though Homulilly would have been perfectly content to just let them pass without drawing attention, Gretchen's natural friendliness had not only caused her to cheerfully greet them, but also ask their names and about their time in the integration program.

Which had then turned into them asking questions as well, and Gretchen answering them.

And that ended up turning into something awful. It had turned into a _conversation._

As was often the case whenever something like that happened, Homulilly hung back, bit her tongue, and waited for it to be over, all the while wishing that the other party would just hurry up and go away.

But then one of them looked at her, and started asking _her_ the same questions she had been asking Gretchen.

That had done it.

Homulilly had broken down. She had lost control and started shaking and crying, and the more she had tried to bring herself under control the worse it got.

Gretchen had, of course, immediately rushed to help and comfort her, which was fine. But what _wasn't_ fine was that the two older students had also come in closer to see if they could help, and in the process, one of them had touched Homulilly's arm.

Homulilly had screamed then.

And so, she was here, in Dr. Cynthia's office, wondering what was wrong with her.

In response to Homulilly's painful baring of her soul, Dr. Cynthia merely crossed her legs and clasped her fingers over her knees, her chrome nails glinting in the light from the window. "Do you feel like you are…inadequate?" she asked.

Homulilly shivered. "I just get in the way," she said.

"Did Gretchen…express concern over your friendship?"

"No!" Homulilly was quick to reply. "Never! She's never been anything but wonderful to me. But…" She winced. "She likes talking to other people. She likes meeting other people."

"And you…don't."

Homulilly bowed her head, her long, raven hair falling over her face like a veil. "They scare me," she admitted.

"Ah." Dr. Cynthia didn't seem at all surprised by this. "Is it the other witches? Do their appearances make you uneasy?"

"No! Um, well, maybe a little. At first." Linda especially was _very_ unsettling, given how much of her was essentially a big spider. "But I got used to it."

"Then is it the magical girls, the Puella Magi? Do you still feel that they want to hurt you?"

Homulilly actually had to think on that a bit. It was true that she had been kind of terrified of them at first. After all, supposedly the only reason she and Gretchen were at the FIB to begin with was because some magical girls in the world of the living had destroyed the witch they had become, but after meeting the Puella Magi and having to spend some time with them, it really did seem as they were more afraid of the witches holding a grudge than the witches were of being hunted.

"Not anymore," Homulilly said. "Not really."

"Are you afraid of the other caretakers?"

"Sometimes."

"Are you afraid of me?"

Homulilly hesitated, and then said, "Used to be. Not anymore."

"Why not?"

Homulilly struggled to come up with an answer she could put into words, to find an adequate way to describe her confusing feelings, but really couldn't.

"Is it because I've already seen you without your gloves and wasn't afraid?"

Homulilly make a little choking sound deep in her throat.

"It is, isn't it? You're afraid that if they knew about your arms, they would be scared of you."

Homulilly shivered. She remembered her first day in the FIB, trying her best to hide her skeletal arms from the others, remembered the surprised double-takes from those who did notice and how ashamed they had made her feel. She remembered deliberately showing Amirah how they looked and seeing the fear and revulsion in her eyes.

"They'll think I'm a monster," Homulilly whispered. "And they'll be _right!"_

"Hmmm. A monster. I see." Dr. Cynthia steepled her fingers against her chin. "And what makes one a monster?"

Homulilly was a little taken back by the question. She had expected Dr. Cynthia to immediately start telling her that there was no way that she was a monster, and that her arms looked just fine, and no one would judge her if she would just let them see her how she really was. "Huh?"

"A monster. What is a monster, exactly?"

"A monster? It's, well, it's…" Homulilly's voice faltered.

"You see, the word 'monster' has a lot of meanings, and is thrown around pretty liberally. In olden days, whenever explorers would find a new land and encounter wild animals that they had never seen before, they would call them monsters, but over time, when people got used to them and gave them regular names, they were just animals. When we here encountered magical girls from other planets who also died and came here, we called them monsters, and they called us monsters, but now they're just…people. People from different species and planets, but still just people." Dr. Cynthia shrugged. "I've been here a pretty long time, Homulilly. I know I don't look it, but I've done this job for a while, and I've seen a lot of strange and different things. And it seems to me that most 'monsters' are just things that are strange and different that we haven't gotten used to yet, while the _real_ monsters are people who hurt others for their own gain, either because they don't care or because they actually like it. And I just don't see that in you."

"But I do!" Homulilly blurted out. "I mean, I did!"

"Oh? How so?"

"By being born!"

Dr. Cynthia quirked an eyebrow.

"I'm…I'm not supposed to exist! I'm just a ghost, and not even the _right_ ghost!" Homulilly ran her gloved fingers down her cheeks. "This face? This isn't my face, it's the face of the girl I killed! She fell into despair, and that created me! I was born, I took over, I ruined her, and when we both died, I was the only one who came here!"

Then, so quickly that it surprised even herself, Homulilly yanked off both gloves, exposing the bare bones of her hands and fingers.

"Look!" she said, holding her hand up high and spreading the skeletal digits wide. "Look at me! This is why I look like this! I'm half alive, half dead, and none of it is real, or at least is really mine!"

Dr. Cynthia didn't so much as flinch. "So am I," she said. "And so is Gretchen. We are witches as well. Are we monsters?"

Wincing, Homulilly withdrew her hand, hugging her arms to her stomach. She didn't answer.

"Now, you said that you felt that Gretchen deserved better than you, but you are both witches. How are you a monster and she isn't?"

Homulilly blinked back tears. "But that's just it! I…" She sighed. "I know it doesn't m-make sense, but I can't help feeling that way! But Gretchen, she's…fine with who she is, with _what_ she is, most of the witches are! And she's just so friendly and kind and wants to make friends with everyone, but I get so scared that I just ruin things for her."

"Do you feel that she might resent you for this? Because I know for a fact that she-"

"I know!" Homulilly snapped. Realizing how sharp she had sounded, she winced and took a few moments to calm herself down. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…But, I know she doesn't. I know she really cares about me and is worried about me and wants to help, but that makes it kind of worse!"

"How?"

"Because…Because…" Homulilly teared up again. "Would she even be friends with me if we weren't a Walpurgisnacht?"

Dr. Cynthia smiled a little at that. "Actually, I'd be surprised if we could keep her away from you."

"Huh?"

"Gretchen…well, she likes to help people. I'm sure you've noticed. She's just a very kindhearted and empathetic person, and if you two had not been a Walpurgisnacht, if you had come here separately, I have no doubt that she would sense that you were sad and lonely and want to help you however she could."

…

"I'm just so worried about her," Gretchen groused.

She was sitting outside in the FIB's plaza at a round concrete table. Sitting with her was Marty, the stout German girl whose skin seemed to be woven from paperclips, and Ava, the small Finnish girl who had once mistaken Gretchen and Homulilly for the Walpurgisnacht that had killed her sister, an incident that was fortunately well in the past.

It was Saturday, which meant a free day, and that meant most of the girls were either out in the protected zone, enjoying their newfound freedom, save for the few that actually preferred the amenities of the FIB. However, as time had gone on, Gretchen had come to realize more and more that her closest companion wasn't drawn to any of that.

Homulilly didn't like going out into town. Homulilly didn't like going for walks in the garden. Homulilly didn't like visiting the library. Homulilly didn't like visiting the gym. Homulilly didn't even like visiting the entertainment center, which had everything from space-age video games to a roller-skating rink to a bowling alley.

And yet, she always went wherever Gretchen wanted to go. If Gretchen wanted to go for a walk, then Homulilly went for a walk. If Gretchen wanted to visit the library, then Homulilly visited the library. If Gretchen wanted to play a video game, then Homulilly would watch her.

Homulilly never suggested anything for the two of them to do together, but she was always willing to go wherever Gretchen went. And it always seemed so normal when she did! They would talk, they would look at things and comment on them, and nothing would seem to be wrong!

Until other people got involved. That was when Homulilly would start getting quiet, and after that she would get anxious.

The meltdown in the garden hadn't been the first, but it had been the worst. And while Gretchen was proud of Homulilly for actually going to the caretakers for help, it did make Gretchen feel a little helpless. After all, she was supposed to be Homulilly's soulmate! Why didn't she know what to do?

"Everyone else seems to be coming along fine," Gretchen continued. "But Lilly-chan is just so scared of everything, and I don't know how to help her!"

"Well, not really," Ava admitted.

"Huh?"

"I'm…not really doing much better," Ava said. "I mean, it's been a lot easier ever since they found my sister, and talking to her makes me feel better, but sometimes it's just so hard to even get out of bed." She shivered. "I just keep having nightmares almost every night, about how I'm back, well, you know, _alive_ again, and I'm fighting a witch like I used to, but then the witch turns into one of you, and I'm beating up another girl, and I try to stop but it's like my body's not under my control anymore, and I just keep smashing her face in over and over-"

"Oh no, Ava-chan, don't!" Gretchen pleaded, reaching over the table to clasp Ava's hands. "You know none of that was your fault! And it's like the caretakers told us: all of us witches are actually better off now that you magical girls set us free!"

Marty sympathetically patted Ava on the back while the smaller girl slowly breathed out. "I know, I know," she said once she had calmed down. "But…knowing something and feeling it aren't the same thing. And it's just so hard to get any sleep knowing that those bad dreams are waiting for me. It must be easier for you guys, since you don't remember any of that."

"Well, not by a whole lot," Marty said. "I mean, I don't dream about beating up my classmates, but I get these weird, creepy dreams, where everything's all whooshy and colorful, and there's all these spinning shapes, and I think I can see a face in all that chaos, but the harder I try to look, the more hazy it gets, but it's like I know the other person's name, but just can't recall it, and when I wake up sometimes I can't even remember my own name, and I have to lie there for like several minutes just letting all the weirdness in my head work itself out."

Gretchen and Ava both stared at her.

"Oh," Marty said with a sheepish smile. "Just me?"

"Probably not," Gretchen sighed. "Homulilly-chan has really bad dreams too, and I wouldn't be surprised if most of the other girls also had nightmares."

"But not you?"

Gretchen hesitated, and then said, "Well, there is this one dream that keeps coming back, where I'm sinking into deep water, and it's like my whole body has just fallen asleep, so I can't swim or anything, and I just keep drifting lower and lower, when all of a sudden something's grabbed my legs, and then I'm getting pulled up really, really fast, and then I'm out of the water being lifted up through what looks like a really deep hole or a dark well, but just before whatever it is that's holding onto me pulls me all the way out, it suddenly drops me, and I'm falling all the way back into the water, and I'm sinking again deeper and deeper-"

"Okay, I think we get it," Marty said hastily, the tips of the paperclips in her shoulders and neck curling up in agitation. "We all have a lot of damage to work through."

The three girls sat silently for a time, each ruminating on their respective wounds.

"Okay, you know what?" Marty said so suddenly that it made the other two jump a little bit. "Forget feeling sorry for ourselves. Let's go to the Emporium!"

Gretchen immediately felt her spirits lift, only for them to sour. "I don't know," she said. "Homulilly-chan's not here…"

"Her appointment's not going to be over for a while, right?" Marty said. "So no matter what she won't be here. So that'll give you time to get her a nice gift!"

That was true, but Gretchen still wasn't comfortable going anywhere without her. If the appointment got out early and Gretchen wasn't there to greet her, then Homulilly would be upset. But even beyond that, going anywhere without Homulilly felt…weird, sort of like forgetting one's keys when going out and not finding out until it's too late to go back for them. Even if no one else notices that something is amiss, you are constantly aware that something important is missing and it just puts a damper on the whole trip.

Still, if she did find something nice for Homulilly at a good price, then surely a quick trip couldn't hurt…

"Come on," Marty pressed. "Nothing's solved by sitting here stressing."

"And I have been meaning to get something for Emma," Ava mused. "Her job keeps her from visiting Freehaven a lot, so it would be nice if she had something to remind her of it."

"Well, all right," Gretchen conceded. "May just for a little-"

"Great, let's go!" Marty hopped up and grabbed both girls by the wrists and practically hauled the pair off.

They checked in with the FIB to let them know where they were going, and, at Gretchen's insistence, left word for Homulilly in case she got out of her appointment before they got back. And then they were off.

As Gretchen got her feet under her in order to move herself along, she marveled how they were able to simply walk out whenever they wished. True, the surrounding area was under surveillance, so it wasn't like no one was keeping an eye on things, but it was still a lot more freedom than she had expected to have so soon.

In contrast to the tall walls and narrow streets of most of Freehaven, the protected zone shared by both the residents of the FIB and the Freehaven locals was open and airy. The red-bricked road that they were walking down was probably one of the widest in the town, and was bordered by shady trees.

The road led to the park that had been their first visit during the tour, a wide, grass square with a smattering of trees. Surrounding it were a number of business, from stores to restaurants. In the center was a tinkling fountain, one with four glittering statues made from marble, crystal, and precious metals, each one of a girl from a different species.

There was a human girl with African features, wearing a wispy white toga-like robe and pointing a golden rod into the far distance, from which one of the fountains spouts poured out. Her face and shoulders were painted brown, her coiled hair black, with a golden tiara-like crown set with green gems. More green gems were set into the hem of her robe.

The second was the simplest, but also very eye-catching. It was a round sphere of pink crystal, one studded with many smaller crystals of different colors. That was of a calliope, the first (and to date, _only_ ) alien that Gretchen had met. Supposedly they lived in a gaseous planet full of rainbow clouds and giant crystals constantly soaring through the air.

The next was of a short, squat creature that honestly looked like a cross between a bear and a frog. It (or, rather, _she_ ) only came up to waist-height to the human girl and had a hairy body covered with thin grey fur and a broad, almost flattened-looking head, with a very wide mouth, two deep-set eyes made from carved garnets; a mohawk-like tuft of hair made from strings of silver; and long, webbed fingers that ended in hooked claws. She was wearing what looked like a silver leotard with a gold cape hanging off one shoulder, and her hands were grasped around the handles of a curving blade of platinum, with two more fountains spouts pouring out each pointed tip. She was something known as a _jott,_ a being that supposedly lived underground. Gretchen had yet to see one, but she very much wanted to.

She wasn't so sure about the fourth one though. The fourth statue was of a being that was entirely inhuman, and not in a cool or funny way like the calliopes. It was made of spun volcanic glass of a deep amber color, and was of a…thing, one with a small, spherical body with nine long, spindly arms, each one ending in three grasping fingers, which also served as water spouts. The eyeless head sat on a long, skinny stalk and looked bullet-shaped, but the grooves told Gretchen that it was more like a closed flower-blossom, with the mouth opening its rays in all directions. From what she had been told, it was a being known as an ai'jurrik'kai, a name that she still hadn't been able to pronounce. To be honest, they sort of frightened her, but people assured her that they were perfectly nice. Iris was really obsessed with them especially for some reason.

Those four species didn't represent all of the species contacted by the Incubators and thus consigned to the afterlife, of course. But from what Gretchen had heard, a large group of humans, calliopes, jotts, and ai'jurrik'kai had banded together a long time ago to form an organization called the New Life Alliance, of which Freehaven was one of the major cities. That sounded nice to Gretchen; she was all in favor of different peoples coming together and being friends. Though she still wasn't exactly clear on what they had come together to ally _against._

They passed by the fountain and continued on through the park, until they reached the very end of the protected zone.

And there it was.

The Magi's Gifts Emporium lay glittering in the sun, the facets of its stained-glass walls and pyramidal roof making it sparkle as much as the treasures it held. Of all the wonders they had seen during their tour of the city, it was Freehaven's premier gift shop that Gretchen's mind returned the most to, of all of its beautiful wares and temptations.

The three of them came to a stop in front of the entrance and just stared.

"Well, there it is," Marty said.

"There it is," Gretchen agreed.

"And…we can just go in?"

"I, uh, don't see any reason why not," Ava said. "I mean, they said we could, right?"

"Yes, they did," Gretchen nodded. "So. There should be no problem, right?"

Nobody moved.

"So, why haven't we gone in yet?" Ava asked.

"Well…because the outside is just so pretty, that it's perfectly natural to want to admire it first!" Marty responded.

"Oh," Gretchen nodded. "Yes. That makes sense."

They admired it for a bit longer.

"Well, we have to go in sooner or later," Marty said at last. "So…on the count of three! One. Two…"

Before she got to "three," a very familiar belabored groan sounded from right behind them.

"Oh, for the love of everything, get out of my way!" Vendel snapped as she pushed her way past the trio.

Gretchen started. "Wait, how long where you standing behind us?"

"The whole time, waiting for you dorks to hurry up and go inside so I could go inside!" Vendel stormed in through the front door.

The three of them exchanged a look. Then Marty shrugged and went after Vendel, and Ava followed. Sighing, Gretchen followed them inside.

Though she had been in once already, Gretchen couldn't keep from gasping a little. The Magi's Gifts Emporium was no less breathtaking the second time, from the towering shelves of treasures to the colorful kites and banners hanging from the ceiling to the golden train still chugging merrily through its floating track.

_This is wonderful!_ Gretchen thought as she took in the sight. The place literally glittered with treasure. It was like something out a fairy-tale, a magical store hidden away from humans, a place for spirits and fairies and elves and genies. Which, when she thought about it, it kinda of was.

Gretchen moved slowly through the aisles, gazing awestruck at the toy animals that looked and moved as if they were alive, the hovering silver bubbles that morphed and twisted like lumps of mercury, and the gem-studded mirrors that were able to zoom in or out and spin the view a full three-hundred and sixty degrees around whoever was using them. As her many wirelike legs had the same adhesive properties as a spider's, she didn't have any trouble climbing the shelves to view the merchandise in the upper levels, though the other customers didn't seem to have much difficulty either, using a series of handles and footholds to scamper upwards and around in a manner not dissimilar to monkeys. It was a wonder nothing was broken, though Gretchen supposed that there was some sort of magic at play.

Still, everything seemed just a little too expensive. But there had to be something here that Homulilly would like that Gretchen could afford.

As Gretchen admired a collection of self-tying ribbons, she became aware of music being played, music that stood out from the gentle melody that was playing over the store's speakers. Someone was playing a piano nearby, and was doing so very well, but they never got far into the song before stopping and letting someone else repeat the notes, this one still good but not as skilled as the first. Then the first person would take over, and the cycle would begin again.

Gretchen blinked. Was that what she thought it was?

She slowly followed the sound, the tips of her legs clicking against the black-and-white tiled floor. As she drew near, the piano playing stopped and she heard someone say, "Okay, that's good enough for today. I'll see you on Saturday. Remember to keep practicing!"

It was a music lesson, as Gretchen had figured. Someone was teaching somebody else how to play piano. Sure enough, as she rounded a corner, she saw the wall of exotic instruments. One corner was partitioned off, in which a keyboard was set up. A small, pale blue-haired girl was gathering her things and exchanging idle chat with her teacher, a girl around Gretchen's age (though many of the people she had met were) with short blue hair and eyes of the same color. She was wearing a white shirt and a brown jacket, and was putting on a brown newsgirl's cap.

It was her! It was the mermaid she had seen during the tour, still seated in her special mechanical chair, her colorful tail resting comfortably in its harness. And once again Gretchen immediately felt that wave of recognition as soon as she saw her face.

There was little doubt about it. She knew this girl.

The mermaid's student said goodbye and ran off. The mermaid finished packing up her own things into a pouch that hung over the side of her chair. Then the chair's legs rose up and started moving the mermaid out of her little alcove.

Realizing the opportunity she now had, Gretchen walked over to the mermaid and greeted her with a cheery, "Hi!"

The mermaid looked up at her and smiled. "Hey! Can I help you?"

Better play it cool and see if the mermaid recognized her too. Gretchen shook her head. "Uh, not really. I'm just sort of new here, and thought I'd check out the store when I heard you playing. I just wanted to let you know that you were really good."

The mermaid's smile grew. "Well, hey! Thanks!" Chuckling, she scratched the back of her neck. "Shucks, you're making me blush now. You said you're new in town?"

"Uh-huh," Gretchen said, nodding. "Well, new to everything, actually."

"Oooh, right, the uniform! Integration Bureau and all that?"

"Yup!" Keeping her voice casual, Gretchen studied the mermaid's face, looking for any sign of being recognized. "It's a lot to get used to, but I like it!"

"Yeah, I remember what that was like. Confusing times." Then the mermaid leaned forward and extended her hand. "Well then, hi there, and welcome to Freehaven! I'm Oktavia von Seckendorff, though feel free to forget the last part. Everyone always does. I teach music here, which is a big duh. Seeing how I was just teaching music. Also, this might come as something of a shock, but I'm a fish."

"I figured," Gretchen laughed, shaking Oktavia's hand. As she did, she felt a slight spark. "I'm Kriemhild Gretchen, though feel free to forget the first part. The second part's prettier anyway. And I'm a spider…octopus…thingy!"

"A what now?" Oktavia blinked. She glanced down at Gretchen's billowy skirt. Grinning, Gretchen raised it just enough to let her see the ends of her thin legs.

"Oh, I see!" Oktavia said, nodding. "Wow, those look useful!"

"They are!" Gretchen said proudly. "They're fast, and don't get tired easily, and I can walk on walls. Plus…" She gathered her legs tightly together, which gained her almost a meter of height.

"Wow," Oktavia said, staring. "Well, you've got me beat in the usefulness department. But then, almost everyone does. Bet I can outswim you though."

"You can probably outswim everyone," Gretchen said as she lowered back to her usual height. "And your tail's so pretty."

"You better believe it. They don't even let me enter any competitions, the biased-" Suddenly Oktavia cut herself off in mid-sentence. Her brow knitted together in a puzzled frown.

Gretchen felt a rush of excitement. There it was! "What is it?"

"Hey, this is gonna sound kinda crazy, but have we met?" Oktavia asked. "Because I swear I know you from somewhere. I just can't pin down where."

"Yes!" Dropping the façade, Gretchen happily took Oktavia's hand in hers. "I knew it from the first time I saw you! You recognize me, don't you?"

Oktavia still looked bewildered. "Wait, f-first time? What are you-" Suddenly her eyes widened. "Oh, wait! A few weeks ago, when the new class was visiting! I had this…weird sense of déjà vu…"

"Yup!" Gretchen said. "That was me! I heard you playing, and thought I would see if I had imagined it or not."

"Wow, weird." Oktavia frowned. "But, um, it's the same for you? We haven't actually met, but it feels like we have?"

"Yes, that's it" Gretchen said. "When I saw you, I felt like I knew you. It's like we met in…in a dream or something."

"Yeah. Kinda like that, I guess. Huh." Scratching her head, Oktavia tilted her head first to one side, and then the other. Then her face lit up. "Hey, I got it!"

"What?"

"Maybe we were friends! You know, before."

Gretchen grinned. "That's what I was thinking! You think it might be that too?"

"Heck if I know for sure," Oktavia shrugged. "Kinda hard to check and all. But it makes sense, doesn't it? I mean, we're both about the same age, both Japanese, both wound up in Freehaven, so I'm willing to bet you spawned pretty close by."

"I did," Gretchen nodded.

"Right! So did I, so that means the places we…uh…" Oktavia suddenly looked embarrassed, as if she had almost stumbled into a faux pas.

"Died?" Gretchen suggested.

Oktavia sighed. "Uh, yeah. That." She coughed awkwardly into her fist. "But yeah! And given the time difference, we were probably alive around the same time, so it's definitely possible!"

This was going _wonderfully._ "I think it could have been that," Gretchen said. "Actually, I'm sure it was!"

…

When Homulilly left Dr. Cynthia's office, she felt…well, not exactly _better,_ per se. Actually, she was even more emotionally raw than when she had gone in. But she did leave with something of a renewed sense of focus, as well as a new feeling of perspective.

She still didn't like the idea of talking to other people, nor was she anywhere near being able to let anyone other than Gretchen and maybe Dr. Cynthia touch, see, or even get near her arms, but she at least knew that she wasn't alone in her fears. Maybe she would be able to find a way to cope.

As she stepped out into the hallway, a passing caretaker noticed her. "Ah, hello, Homulilly!"

Homulilly instinctively froze up. But then, something Dr. Cynthia had said to her popped into her mind.

_You can't force confidence,_ the motorcycle witch said. _But you can fake it. Most people do. Just about every cool and confident person you know is faking it. They're usually as scared as you are, but they learned how to act confident. And sometimes, if you do it enough, you can actually trick yourself into actually becoming confident. Fake it until you make it._

That…sounded really off to Homulilly, and she had some serious doubts as to its effectiveness. Still, Dr. Cynthia did sound like she knew what she was talking about. So, forcing what was probably a _really_ fake-looking smile and making a conscious effort not to hide her arms, Homulilly said, "Uh, h-hello! How are you?"

Oh, her voice was too loud. It had to be too loud. She was already screwing it up.

Fortunately, the caretaker didn't so much as blink. "Your friend Gretchen asked us to give you a message."

What? Homulilly felt panic start to well up. What message? What was wrong?

"She said that she, Marty, and Ava went to the Magi's Gifts Emporium, and in case you got out before they got back, then they'll be back by two."

Homulilly stared bleakly at her. What? Gretchen had gone somewhere without her? As soon as Homulilly had been tied up with something else, Gretchen had sought out other people and got away? Gretchen was replacing her, Gretchen was-

"She also was very insistent that I assure you that she was looking forward to hanging out with you today, and not to worry. And that she hopes your session went well."

Homulilly sighed. Wow, was she really that predictable? "Thank you for telling me," she said. The caretaker nodded and went on her way.

Taking the time to employ a few breathing exercises she had learned, Homulilly slowed her breath and brought her thundering heartbeat (heartbeat. Why did she have a heartbeat if she was dead?) under control. _Breathe in through nose for five seconds. Hold it for three. Then out through mouth for eight. Breathe in through nose for five seconds…_

When she felt that she had regained enough control, Homulilly checked the time. To her dismay, it was only 1:44, which meant more than fifteen minutes before Gretchen got back! And that was practically twenty minutes, which was only a short time away from half-an-hour, and once you hit half-an-hour, you might as well go for the full hour alone because-

No! No, it wasn't! It was only about fifteen minutes! That was just five minutes, then another five minutes, and then a third five minutes! She could hold on for that long!

But even so, it was still longer to spend alone than she'd like, even if it was in their apartment.

_Maybe…maybe I could go meet her!_ Homulilly thought. _Yeah, that's something a confident person would do. Just sitting alone getting all anxious would be the sort of thing a scared little girl would do, but if I went to meet her, then I'd get to see her sooner and I'd look confident!_

Bolstered by the thought, Homulilly actually found herself doing something that she never thought that she'd do: leave the FIB on her own. She checked out with the front receptionist and walked right out of the facility, and if anyone could see her, then they'd never guess what a big thing this was for her to do.

In fact, she felt so bolstered that she got more than halfway down to the park when she suddenly realized that suddenly showing up when Gretchen was out with friends would be imposing, and just make her seem even clingier.

Homulilly promptly swiveled on her heel to go back the other way.

But she was most of the way there, and if she showed up and kept out of the way, then Gretchen wouldn't have to cut her shopping date short just to see her!

Homulilly turned back around again.

But what if she had another panic attack in the middle of the store? That would just ruin everything for everyone!

Homulilly turned back toward the FIB.

No! She couldn't keep doing this! She had to make a choice!

_Maybe…I could go halfway! You know, just hang out in the park. If Gretchen's at the Emporium, then she has to go through the park to go back. So I could make it seem like I just so happened to be there!_

Yeah. Yeah, that could work.

Before she could change her mind again, Homulilly made herself go the rest of the way.

Fortunately, nobody paid her any mind. She wasn't even the only FIB student there, as she saw more than a few girls wearing the same uniform as she milling about. She didn't know any of them, as they were from other years, but at least she wouldn't stand out.

Homulilly went up to the fountain and was relieved to find the bench facing the Emporium empty. There weren't many people nearby, thank goodness, though another girl was sitting slouched in another nearby bench, her arms flung over the bench's back and armrests, her face covered by a wide-brimmed hat to shield it from the sun. She seemed to be fast asleep. Homulilly glanced only briefly at her, only to do a double-take. Had she seen that girl before? Something about her outfit was ringing a bell. Oh well.

As she waited for Gretchen to show up, Homulilly glanced about at the people she was sharing the park with. Everyone seemed to be about her age: some a little older, some a little younger. It was somewhat disconcerting in a way, considering that they were all dead. She wondered what sort of people they had been, before their deaths. She wondered what sort of wishes they had made, and how many would take them back if given the opportunity. She wondered what her own wish had been, but that knowledge was lost to her. She didn't even have her old name.

Though maybe that was a blessing. Apparently, those who had not become witches had a harder time adjusting, given that they knew exactly what they had lost. Many of them missed their families and their friends and felt cheated out of whatever life they might have had. Many continued to deal with the lingering trauma of their own deaths and all that had lead up to them. Homulilly wondered if she truly wanted to regain knowledge of her former self, of the girl whose body she had supplanted, and found that she wasn't sure.

Still, who had she been? Who was her family? Had they even noticed that she was gone? What about Gretchen? Had they known each other before, or had they simply been two witches that had coincidentally crossed each other's paths? Homulilly was fairly certain that that wasn't the case, that she and Gretchen's former selves had been close. She just wished that she knew how.

_It's not fair,_ she thought as her hands curled up into fists. She sniffed. _Those Incubators. They took everything from us. It's not fair, it's not-_

And then she heard the flapping of wings, and something heavy landed on her head, directly on top of her spider-lily.

Homulilly froze in shock. And then a beaked face of a scarlet macaw came down in front of her to stare her in the eye, mere centimeters from her nose.

"Get the phone, asshole!" the bird squawked.

"AH!" Homulilly cried. She tried to shoo the parrot off her head. Distressed, it flapped its wings and dug in with its talons, gripping tight.

Then she heard someone laugh. "Sorry, sorry! Cheese, get over here!"

Squawking irritably, Cheese the parrot flew off of Homulilly's head and over to the other bench, where its sleeping occupant was now stirring. Like Homulilly, she seemed to be of Japanese descent and was of a similar age, though that was where the similarities ended. Her outfit was devoted to the color red: red boots, red slacks, a button-down pink shirt, red vest, red tie, and a red blazer that was worn loosely around her shoulders. Her hat, which she was now pushing up her head, was red as well, though a sprig of rosemary adorned with small violet blossoms was stuck into the band, and a tiny blue jewel shaped like a crescent moon was pinned to her tie. In the proper setting her outfit might have looked rather classy. Here, it was on the border between outrageous and tacky, though its wearer didn't seem to care.

What was more, Homulilly realized with a shock that she _had_ seen this girl before, and that bird. It was the same girl she had seen slouching around on the rooftop, way back during the tour. What was more, she was pretty sure that the parrot had been the same one that had screamed obscenities at them during their first tour of the FIB gardens.

"Sorry about that," the girl said. She held out her arm, and Cheese lighted on her elbow. "It was that flower on your head. He liked the color red. Can't imagine why."

"Oh," Homulilly said. She reflexively lifted a hand to touch it. "Th-that's okay."

Smirking, the girl turned her attention to the parrot. "Cheese, the hell do you think you're doing?" she scolded, taking the parrot by the beak and playfully moving his head back and forth. "Scaring the poor girl. You know better than that!"

"Dickhead!" Cheese declared as he climbed up her shoulder and hopped onto her hat, where he sat like a conqueror upon a pile of skulls. "Dickhead!"

"That's right, you are. Little feathered jerk." Shaking her head, the girl sighed and turned to Homulilly. "Yeah, guy's a real snot. Filthy mouth too." She chuckled and then looked over to Homulilly. The laughter stopped and her face froze.

_Oh no, here it comes,_ Homulilly thought, her apprehension growing. _She's going to say something. She knows about the gloves, she knows-_

"Hey," the red-clad girl said. "Do I know you from somewhere?"

Homulilly blinked. Okay, so that hadn't exactly been the reaction she had been expecting. "Exc-cuse me?"

"I know you from somewhere." Snapping her fingers to jog her memory, the red-clad girl stood up and walked over to Homulilly. Despite the motion, the parrot didn't seem to a problem keeping his balance. "I swear we've met before."

"Um, I don't _think_ so," Homulilly said. To her surprise, she was more mystified than embarrassed by the attention. "I'm sort of new, so I don't think-"

She stopped talking and frowned. Wait, there it was again, that strange feeling of recognition, the same she had gotten when she had just glimpsed the red girl from across rooftops. Now that the girl was nearer and she got a good look at her face, it was even stronger, something that she couldn't really put her finger on but also couldn't ignore. Unsurprisingly, the girl's eyes and eyebrows were as red as her outfit. However, she couldn't say the same about her hair, because she didn't have any. Even with the hat she was wearing, it was clear that the top of the red-clad girl's head was completely bare. Homulilly was fairly certain that she had yet to run into anyone bald, but there was still something there.

"Actually, now that you mention it, you do seem sort of familiar," she said, squinting one eye.

"I know, right?" The girl studied Homulilly's face for a bit longer, trying to pick out where that bit of recognition came from. Then she shrugged. "Ah well. You said you're new, right? Like, new to Freehaven, or new to everything?"

"Both," Homulilly admitted.

The girl grinned. "Well, hey. I sort of have an idea what that's like." She stuck out her hand. "Yo, welcome to our fair yet bizarre city. Name's Ophelia. And before you ask, yes, like the crazy girl from the play."

…

Suddenly, it occurred to Gretchen that as awesome as reuniting with a possible long-lost friend was, she had another _actual_ friend waiting for her.

"Oh no!" she exclaimed, hastily checking the time. It was 1:54. "I promised roommate that I'd be back by two!"

"Oh, she's the girl you're a Walpurgisnacht with?" Oktavia said.

Gretchen nodded.

"Well, let's go then! I'm supposed to meet my girlfriend in park anyway, so I can walk you at least part of the way."

Even though the mechanical legs of Oktavia's chair were plainly visible, the thought of being walked anywhere by a mermaid was so strange and so cool that Gretchen found that she couldn't wipe the goofy smile off her face.

"Okay," she said. "Hang on! Let me tell my other friends where I'm going!"

She hastily looked around until she found Marty and Ava perusing a collection of small china figurines. "Hey, I gotta head back," she said. "See you later?"

Marty shot her a look. "Did we see you talking to the mermaid?"

"Yup!"

Ava sighed. "Leave it to Gretchen to make friends with the only mermaid as soon as she sees her. Lucky." She shook her head. "Okay, see you later!"

Gretchen wondered how Oktavia was going to maneuver her chair through the shelves, given that it seemed a little too wide. Fortunately she didn't have to, as there was an employee backdoor close to where she had been teaching music, one wide enough for her and Gretchen to slip through with ease.

They continued talking as they went.

"It's not like this is the first time this has happened," Oktavia explained as she and Gretchen headed together through the streets. "But the other time we at least knew why."

Gretchen nodded. "Okay, why was it?"

"I'm part of a Walpurgisnacht," Oktavia shrugged. "Do, uh, you know what that is?"

As a matter of fact, Gretchen did. "Yup! I'm actually part of one too."

Oktavia blinked in surprise. "Get out. Are you serious?"

"Completely," Gretchen said with a grin. "Small one though. Just me and Lilly-chan."

"Ah, the one you have to go meet? But you know what I mean then, right? Like, when you first saw her, you had no idea who she was, but you still knew that you knew her, like there was this weird connection between you."

"I know exactly what you mean," Gretchen said solemnly. Her hand instinctively to her heart. "It was…it was like there was something pulling me to her, a thread connecting our destinies together and entwining our souls."

Oktavia's chair stopped marching long enough for the mermaid to give her a weird, sidelong look. "Ooookaaaay, that's way more romantic than I would have put it, but hey! It's kinda true."

Gretchen giggled. "Sorry. I actually didn't come up with that. One of the other girls from our therapy group really likes sounding poetical, and that's the way she said it. How big is your Walpurgisnacht?"

"Four people, including myself," Oktavia told her, holding up the appropriate number of fingers. "There's also my girlfriend Ophelia, who we're going to meet, and Candeloro and Charlotte. They're a couple too. Got married a few years ago."

"That's adorable!" Gretchen said with a wide grin.

"Yeah, it's a pretty cool." The two of them reached Mayboyer Park, and pebbly cobblestones were replaced by smooth concrete. Gretchen appreciated the change, as it was easier on her legs. "The four of us share a house over in…Uh, you've never been to Ladoga, have you?"

Gretchen shook her head. "No."

"Oh." Oktavia shrugged. "Well, it's the street we live on, over near the southern cliff. It's really pretty, nice view of the ocean. Oh, there's Ophelia!"

Oktavia pointed toward the fountain in the park's center. A girl wearing a very flashy red outfit was slouching with her legs crossed in one of the benches, a large, red parrot sitting on her shoulder.

And Homulilly was sitting next to her.

Gretchen blinked in surprise. The two girls were sharing a bag of cookies and chatting. Homulilly was talking to somebody. What was more, she was smiling as well. Gretchen had only seen her smile, an actual genuine smile instead of the fake one she sometimes wore to be brave, when they were alone.

Homulilly…had gone out on her own. And she was talking to someone. Of her own free will. And she was having fun doing so!

A small smile of her own tugged at Gretchen's lips. She had known Homulilly could do it, though admittedly she hadn't expected the first person that she would warm up to would look quite that…flamboyant.

"And…I don't know that other girl," Oktavia said, sounding a little confused.

"That's Homulilly!" Gretchen said happily.

"Wait, the one you were talking about? Oh." Oktavia's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Well. What are the odds?"

As they approached, Ophelia looked up and grinned when she saw them. "Hey, speak of the devil," she said, standing up. "'Sup, Tavi? I made a friend, and looks like you did too. Wanna share?"

Homulilly blinked. "G-Gretchen-chan? Is that…is that the _mermaid?_ "

"Hi, Lilly-chan!" Gretchen said, rushing over to give her a warm hug. "I'm sorry I'm late. And yes, Oktavia-chan is the mermaid! Also, I think we were right! We used to know her."

"O-oh, did we?" Homulilly's face reddened slightly as she gently returned the embrace.

As Ophelia and Oktavia watched the exchange, Ophelia tilted her head to one side and put her hands on her hips. "Huh. Affectionate, ain't they?"

"Yeah, well, you could learn a thing or two from them," Oktavia accused, elbowing Ophelia in the side.

"Hey, are you saying I'm not romantic? Because I'm totally romantic! Watch."

"What?" Gretchen looked over to them in bewilderment. Then, catching on, her face turned red as well. "Oh, wait! We-we're not, I mean it's not like that, Lilly-chan and I are just-"

Ophelia swooped down to plant a big, fat kiss on Oktavia's lips, complete with exaggerated smacking sounds. Startled, the parrot on her shoulder start flapping his wings while screeching protests. Gretchen and Homulilly were struck speechless.

"So, how's that for romantic?" Ophelia smirked as she drew back.

Oktavia stared up at her. Then, taking a deep breath, she said, "I swear to God, the next time we go anywhere _near_ water, I'm going to scalp you, and then I'm going to snuff you."

"Mmmm, you always know just what to say, you big charmer." Turning to the two dumbstruck girls, Ophelia said, "So…you must be Gretchen. Hi, I'm Ophelia, the wonderful person I'm sure Blue Tuna here was telling you about, and the parrot's name is Cheese. Don't ask, our friend Charlotte won the rights to name him. And Homulilly, this is Oktavia, the smelly fishy I was just telling you about. She's mah baby girl-"

"Aaannnnd you're done," Oktavia snapped, her hand snapping up to grab Ophelia by the ear. To Gretchen and Ophelia, she said, "I'm sorry, this happens every time I take her out into public."

"Gerroff my ear!" Ophelia snarled as she yanked her head away. "You trying to twist the whole thing off?"

Cheese then declared, "Bend that bitch over and-"

"Whoa, okay, that's enough of you!" Ophelia exclaimed as she quickly covered the parrot's face with her hand. "Jeez, out of the all things for you to pick up!"

Her face buried in her left hand, Oktavia held out her right. "Ophelia. Give me the bird. Just give me the bird."

"Here, take him, gag him," Ophelia said, quickly divesting herself of her foulmouthed fowl. Then, noticing the slack-jawed stares they were getting, she cringed and explained. "Uh, it's not what you think. We ordered the Pay Per View, and I was trash talking, and for some _inexplicable_ reason, that's all he ever mimics."

"Oh," was all Homulilly had to say. "Okay."

"So yeah!" Ophelia said hastily. "Nice to meet you guys! And hey, you we're all on the same page on the weird déjà vu vibes, right?"

Gretchen giggled. "Yes, we noticed it too."

"Big time," Oktavia said, feeding the Cheese a slice of apple from a plastic baggie to keep him quiet. "We think we might have all known each other back in our past life."

"Huh, could be, could be," Ophelia said as she rubbed her jaw and studied Gretchen's face. "You seem real familiar too. Not sure what part though. Definitely not those skittery things you've got down there. The eyes, maybe."

Gretchen nodded. Though she was absolutely certain that she had never, ever met Ophelia before in this life, there was something about her eyes and her voice, not to mention the way she carried herself. Every time she or Oktavia smiled, Gretchen kept seeing a flash in her mind, a muddled picture of something that was achingly familiar. But she just couldn't pin it down.

"You feel it too, don't you?" she whispered into Homulilly's ear. Homulilly nodded.

"Huh. Well, that's worth pursuing then," Oktavia said. Then she brightened. "Well hey, are you guys free next Friday night?"

"Friday?" Homulilly glanced over to Gretchen. "Well, I-"

"Absolutely!" Gretchen said enthusiastically.

"Great! You want to come over for dinner? Fun times will be had, and we can use Candeloro and Charlotte as our control group."

"What, not tell them?" Ophelia said.

"Well, obviously we're going to tell them that they're coming over!" Oktavia responded with a roll of her eyes. "Just not about the weird connection thing. Watch their reactions and all that."

"Come over for dinner? That's so nice of you! We'd-" Then Gretchen looked over to Homulilly. "Uh, you're okay with this, right Lilly-chan?"

"Okay with it?" Oktavia frowned in confusion. "Why wouldn't she be-" Ophelia flicked her in the temple. "Ow!"

"No pressure," Ophelia immediately offered.

Biting her lower lip, Homulilly looked down at the ground as she thought. The other three waited in anticipation.

Then, taking a deep, calming breath, Homulilly said, "Of…of course. We'd love to go."

"Sweet!" Ophelia grinned. She reached into her bag and tossed both Homulilly and Gretchen a candy bar "It's settled then!"

After exchanging contact information, Ophelia said, "So yeah. We'll give you guys a call…or rather, we'll give your supervisor a call, who will then give you a call, or knock on your door-"

"I think they get it," Oktavia said dryly.

"Just covering my bases. But yeah, contacting will totally be made." Ophelia flicked off a quick salute. "So, be seeing you guys!"

"Goodbye," Homulilly said softly.

"Bye!" Gretchen added with more enthusiasm. "It was nice to meet you! Or…nice to see you again, I guess."

"We'll hammer that part out later," Oktavia said as she turned her chair around. As she did so, Ophelia took the opportunity to leap onto its back like a dogsledder, grabbing onto the handlebars while planting her feet onto a small platform that jutted out from the bottom.

"All right, mush!" she cried as the chair started marching away.

"Get off," Oktavia said, reaching back to shove Ophelia off of her perch. "You've got legs! Use them!"

"Punkass, whiny _losers!"_ Cheese screeched before Ophelia shoved an apple slice into his mouth.

"Wow," Gretchen said as she and Homulilly watched the pair head into the streets. "They were something, weren't they Lilly-chan?"

"They…definitely were," Homulilly agreed. "But they seemed…friendly."

Gretchen smiled as she took Homulilly's hand. "And you made friends with someone! I'm proud of you!"

"Th-thanks," Homulilly said with a smile of her own. They entwined fingers and walked hand-in-hand back home.

However, as they made their way under the trees, Gretchen found her mind drifting to something else entirely. When Oktavia and Ophelia had made certain presumptions about the relationship she had with Homulilly, she had been quick to deny it, claiming that the two of them were just best friends. And it was true, they were, but now that she was giving it some thought, maybe she had spoken too hastily. While they weren't in any sort of official relationship, maybe it wasn't a possibility that should be brushed off.

She glanced over to Homulilly, who was lost in thoughts of her own. She really was beautiful, with her ethereal looks and regal bearing that always clashed cutely with her shyness. And Gretchen did love her dearly, but she wasn't sure if her feelings were really of that sort. She wasn't even sure if she liked girls in that way. She hadn't met any that she felt especially attracted to in that sense, though to be fair she had been so busy to really think about such things, and there weren't any boys around to help make the comparison.

Still…

For all their bickering, Oktavia and Ophelia were obviously in love and very comfortable with it. And watching them interact had been…okay, so they were a little crude, but even so, Gretchen had liked it. It was cute, and they just worked well with one another. And, well, she and Homulilly had met in much the same way, and they got along very well too. So maybe, they could become…

Well, it was something to think about.


	10. Old Friends, New Names, Part 3

Dr. Cynthia had been working to help the newly arrived for a long time, and during the course of her career she had seen and heard quite a lot.

She had seen so many girls at their absolute worst. She had watched them struggle with the reality of their deaths, the truth of the Incubators' lies, the strangeness of the afterlife they now found themselves trapped in, and the myriad of issues that would spin off of all that. She had heard so many stories of the many terrible things that had caused the Incubators to target them in the first place, from abusive homes to homelessness to abandonment to lives that constantly seemed like they were spiraling out of control, as well as those who came from perfectly happy lives and loving families with a bright future ahead of them having to come to grips with the fact that none of that mattered anymore, which was, in its own way, sometimes worse.

And then there were the witches, blanks slates that still had fully developed personalities, coming in with any number of strange alterations. There were those like Homulilly who seemed terrified by even themselves and those like Lucy who rejoiced in their uniqueness. Every year brought forth a new batch, and Dr. Cynthia never knew what to expect.

And then there were the darker ones, the girls that were beyond saving, the ones so broken that no treatment would help, or even those few who had taken power in order to hurt others, and were intent on continuing to be a threat to those around them. Those were rare, but they did happen.

And Dr. Cynthia had seen them all, and as such had judged herself unable to be surprised by anything.

And even so, sometimes she was told something so odd that caused her to take a moment and quirk an eyebrow.

"So, just so we're clear," she said to Homulilly and Gretchen, the two girls who were now sitting in her office. "You two met a pair of complete strangers, felt an instant connection, and they invited you over for dinner this Friday."

"Well, not strangers, since we're pretty sure we used to be friends!" Gretchen said.

"Okay, but even so, this was the first time you had met them in _this_ form and in _this_ world, right? And you're so sure of this connection that you want to go to their place for dinner?"

"Well, I guess it does sound really weird," Gretchen admitted. "But I'm _sure_ that they're okay!"

Dr. Cynthia, however, was less than convinced. She didn't want to stomp all over a new girl who was so enthusiastically integrating herself with Freehaven's population; that was the whole point of the FIB, after all. But this was moving a little too fast as far as she was concerned.

Besides, there was another viewpoint to consider, one that stood at odds with what she was being asked.

"Homulilly, are you…all right with this?" Dr. Cynthia said to the quiet, raven-haired girl. She left unspoken the part about how all of this had happened literally right after Homulilly had confessed to being terrified of basically everyone. Even if she and Gretchen were literal soulmates and probably held no secrets between them, patient confidentiality was still a thing.

But Homulilly didn't shy away from the question. She looked a little puzzled, yes, but not scared. "I…actually am," she said. "It's weird, but they…don't scare me like most other people do. I think Gretchen-chan is right. I think we _did_ know them."

Dr. Cynthia's brow furrowed. "I…see."

"And they're so very nice!" Gretchen said.

"Ah. Well, did they at least give you their names?"

"Of course! And you actually know one of them. Remember the mermaid teaching music at the Magi's Gifts Emporium-"

"Whoa, wait!" Dr. Cynthia said. "The mermaid? Oktavia? Oktavia von Seckendorff?"

Gretchen beamed. "See? You do know her!"

"I'll say. And, ah, was the other one a bald girl in a red outfit?"

"Yup!"

At this, Dr. Cynthia relaxed a little. Well, okay, this was still strange, but at least it was with someone that she knew and was on the level. "Oktavia and Ophelia, huh? Well, that's…surprising."

"So they're friends of yours?" Gretchen asked.

"Oh, I'd say so. I mean, we don't see each other that much, but they and the rest of their Walpurgisnacht was part of my group when they were in the FIB, much as you are now." She felt a small smile quirk up. "And they were certainly…memorable."

"I bet! So, can we?"

Before she could answer, the phone on her desk suddenly lit up with an incoming message, one coming from another part of the facility.

Frowning, Dr. Cynthia tapped it and said, "Ah, I'm speaking to a couple of the students…"

" _Sorry, but you've got a call from someone in town. Something about wanting to get together with some of our residents…?"_

Well, speak of the devil! "Ah, I think I know what you're talking about. Who is it?"

" _Ophelia the fire-witch. She said that you would remember her."_

Gretchen and Homulilly glanced at each other, and Gretchen grinned. Even Homulilly smiled a little.

"Well, I certainly do! Go ahead and put her through."

There was a crackle, and the familiar voice of a certain eccentric local said, _"Helllllloooooo? Hey, doc! You there?"_

Gretchen giggled.

"Hey, Ophelia," Dr. Cynthia said. "What a coincidence! We were just talking about you."

" _Oh, that could mean so many things, not all of them great. I'm going to assume the conversation was positive."_

"This time it is. I heard you made some friends!"

" _Word travels fast. They there?"_

Before Dr. Cynthia could answer, Gretchen leaned forward and said, "Hello, Ophelia-sempai!"

" _Aw, shit. She called me sempai. Did you hear that? I'm a sempai now!"_

Someone in the background muttered, _"Oh God, those poor kids."_ It sounded like Charlotte.

Dr. Cynthia smiled in full now. "I also have heard their hypothesis. Something about a possible connection in all of your past lives."

At this, Ophelia's voice got a little serious, and noticeably lowered her voice. _"Um, yeah. But…keep that on the down low for now, okay? We kind of want to use Candy and Char as our test subjects, see if they have the same reaction."_

"Ah," Dr. Cynthia said. "An experiment then."

In the background of Ophelia's call, Charlotte said, _"Hey, why are you mumbling all of a sudden? What are you telling her?"_

" _So hey!"_ Ophelia said, her voice suddenly high and chipper. _"Dinner invitation! You cool with that?"_

"Well…" Dr. Cynthia sighed. "I don't see why not, provided that the lot of you _behave_ yourselves."

" _Hey, that hurts! We're not rowdy teens anymore!"_

"No, you're just rowdy adults. You know we're going to have to send along a chaperone, right?"

" _Right! We'll set a plate for you."_

Dr. Cynthia sat up a little more straight. "Hey now, I never said-"

" _Oh, please. Who else would it be? Candeloro's making dessert, you know."_

Sighing, Dr. Cynthia settled back down again. "That's cheating. All right. How does five sound?"

" _Sounds great! See y'all there!"_

"All right then. Bye then, Ophelia."

"Bye, Ophelia-sempai!" Gretchen called.

…

Sunsets at Freehaven were a spectacular sight, though whether that was due to its founders choosing the location for the exceptional scenery or due to the combined assumptions of its inhabitants that such a lovely town would naturally have an equally lovely sky was up to debate. The afterlife's subconscious democratic system was a bit weird.

Still, there was no arguing with the results. Even Homulilly, as anxious as she was, had to appreciate the way the soft oranges and yellows on the horizon melted into the deep blue of the sky above. It didn't change the fact that she would much prefer to be enjoying the sight from the security of their room rather than from the street, on their way to spend the evening with a bunch of strange people that they didn't know.

Kriemheld Gretchen was, of course, her usual cheery self. She bounced merrily along, twintails bobbing, swinging Homulilly's hand back and forth as she hummed to herself. For the evening she had dressed in a bright blue blouse and what amounted to black shorts, though nobody save for herself would be able to wear them, as they had a pant leg for each of her many wirelike legs. Homulilly was still amazed that she had been able to put them on without getting her limbs confused.

As for Homulilly herself, in addition to her gloves, she was also wearing a light yellow jacket, a plain black shirt, and a dark maroon skirt. Gretchen had wanted to go for something a bit more formal, but Dr. Cynthia had suggested that, given their hosts, casual wear was probably for the better.

As for Dr. Cynthia, she had on a simple black shirt, a brown leather jacket trimmed with cotton at the collar and wrists, black boots, and tight blue jeans. Given the motorcycle aesthetic she had going on, it was a fitting look for her, but also kind of strange. This was the first time either Homulilly or Gretchen had seen any of the caretakers wear normal clothes.

"Ophelia's definitely the hardest to get used to," Dr. Cynthia said as they walked along toward the southern cliff. She held a box with a fresh-baked apple pie. "I mean, she's really nice and friendly, but has something of a crude sense of humor and likes to tease people. So it's actually a good thing you've already met her."

"I liked her," Gretchen said. "She was funny."

"Yup. Just don't take any of her jokes seriously. Fortunately, Oktavia seems quite adept at keeping her in line. As for Candeloro and Charlotte, they're very easy to get along with. Candeloro's sort of the team mom, while Charlotte is more of the big sister. She has a bad habit of asking sort of personal questions without thinking about it though, so if she says something you don't feel comfortable answering, just look to me, and I'll field it." Dr. Cynthia shook her head. "Those four. They were quite the lively bunch when I worked with them. Ophelia was always bickering with Oktavia and Charlotte, but then she and Charlotte would team up to play practical jokes on the other girls, and then Charlotte and Oktavia would team up to play practical jokes on _her,_ and poor Candeloro would all but run herself ragged trying to keep them in line. Couldn't separate them with a crowbar though. Nobody was at all surprised when Candeloro and Charlotte got married, or that Ophelia and Oktavia hooked up."

"I think it's adorable," Gretchen giggled. "Are Ophelia and Oktavia engaged too?"

Dr. Cynthia shook her head. "No, they're not really the type."

"And does that happen a lot? I mean, having girls in a Walpurgisnacht fall in love with each other?"

Dr. Cynthia gave the two a knowing look, and Homulilly's cheeks turned red. She quickly turned away.

"Not always," Dr. Cynthia said, sounding amused. "But it occurs quite often." There was a short pause, and then she said teasingly, "Why, is there something I should know?"

Gretchen let out a nervous laugh. Homulilly said nothing, though her cheeks had gained a little bit of color.

Ladoga was a quiet little street with large houses that had even larger yards. It wrapped around the foot of a small hill and certainly had more than its fair share of shady willow trees. Breaking from the white walls and flat red roofs of the main city, houses here were painted more muted colors, with lots of blues, greys, and greens, and roofs tended to be tall, slanted, and steep, though balconies and platforms did protrude. The house they were headed for was a very long two-story affair, with a sizeable platform attached to the back of the roof. Cozy lights shone from the windows, standing out in the evening shadows.

"Wow," Gretchen said, staring. "It's so big!"

"Yeah, they really did do well for themselves," Dr. Cynthia said. "Come on."

She walked down the path toward the front door. Gretchen immediately moved to follow, but felt her hand tugged back when Homulilly hesitated.

"Lilly-chan?" Gretchen said, looking at her curiously. "What's wrong?"

Homulilly took a deep breath. "Nothing," she squeaked, and she stepped onto the path.

Smiling, Gretchen squeezed Homulilly's hand. "It'll be okay. I'll be there with you the whole time. You don't have to worry."

Homulilly managed a shaky smile of her own, and the two followed Dr. Cynthia to the front door. Inside, they could hear several voices talking.

Handing the apple pie to Gretchen, Dr. Cynthia rapped her fist against the door. The voices changed their tempo, and then the door opened, revealing Ophelia.

Ophelia had discarded her flashy outfit and was wearing a bright pink halter top and red leggings, leaving the bald pate of her bare. She was munching on a cinnamon twist. When she saw who it was, her scarlet eyes lit up.

"Hey, look who it is!" she said as she enthusiastically embraced Cynthia. "Good to see yah, doc!"

"You two, Ophelia. How are you guys doing?"

"Just peachy, thanks." Then Ophelia peered past her to look at Homulilly and Gretchen. "Oh, hey. You brought along a couple of strays! Hope you're not expecting us to adopt them."

Even though she knew Ophelia was joking, Homulilly wasn't sure how to take that comment, though Gretchen didn't seem at all offended. But then, she never was. "Hello, Ophelia-sempai! Thank you for inviting us."

"You kidding? Any excuse to make Candeloro go all out with the baking is all right in my-"

"Shut your whore mouth and fight!"

Everyone froze as the sudden taunt was shouted from somewhere inside the house. Ophelia grimaced, her face nearly matching her eyebrows.

"That damned bird," she muttered with a noticeable wince.

"Nice to see Cheese is still much the same," Dr. Cynthia in amusement.

"Is he always like that?" Gretchen asked.

"Yes," Ophelia sighed. "Chatty as hell, but for some godforsaken reason, he only _ever_ copies curse words." Ophelia sighed. "At the worst possible times." Gretchen giggled, and even Homulilly found herself smiling at Ophelia's embarrassment.

"Sorry, sorry." Ophelia stood aside and held the door open for them. "Well, come in, come in. Make yourself at home, and ignore the bird. I swear he does this on purpose."

The inside of their house was very nice, though it seemed to have become the center of a battle of clashing tastes and styles. There was a comfortable looking sofa that looked like it had been bought secondhand at a thrift store in front of a glass coffee table that had probably been purchased at a high-end furniture store with a two recliners: one small with dark red leather and the other high-backed covered with pink velvet. Posters of rock bands and monsters shared space with framed landscape portraits and group photographs on the wall, and the shelves held everything from books to toys to a replica championship belt.

Over the mantle were hung four weapons: a red spear with a golden handle and small round counterweight at the other end, a silver musket with elegant lines, a silver cutlass, and a black staff dotted with pink polka-dots topped with a swirly pink stone shaped like a wrapped piece of candy. Homulilly immediately knew what they were. While Puella Magi who entered the afterlife could summon up their trademark weapon as easily as they had in life, witches only were given one, which was normally displayed nearby where they had spawned. Homulilly and Gretchen had been in such a hurry to leave that they had failed to retrieve theirs, so theoretically their weapons were still somewhere at that terrifying clock tower. To be honest, that sort of bothered Homulilly, as it was their only physical connection to their past lives, but what could one do?

Cheese was there, merrily entertaining himself on a parrot playground that was larger than Homulilly's bed. Noticing the guests, he tilted his head to one side.

"No," Ophelia said, holding up a silencing finger.

Cheese let out an inquisitive squawk.

"Don't you dare."

Cheese stared back. Then he said, "Hello!"

Gretchen blinked. Then she smiled. "Hello, pretty birdy!" she cooed back.

"Hi!" Now that he had the obligatory greeting out of the way, Cheese returned to his lazy gymnastics with the metal rings.

"Huh," Ophelia said, staring. "Well. That's a first for-"

"You fucking shitface," Cheese said happily.

Burying her face in her hand, Ophelia called out, "Oktavia! Bird!"

"Sorry, sorry," Oktavia said, maneuvering her legged chair into the room. She coaxed Cheese from his playground with a piece of melon. "I got him. Hi guys!"

"Hello, Oktavia-sama!" Gretchen said happily.

"Hey, Oktavia," Dr. Cynthia said. She cast a dubious look at the macaw. "By the by, how did the cursing start anyway?"

"Ophelia," Oktavia explained

"It's not my fault!" Ophelia protested, in the tone of someone who had been defending herself for quite a while and was getting sick of it. "I was watching the fight, and Ninja Star was pussing out like a bitch! I think my commentary was fully justified."

Dr. Cynthia smirked. "You know wrestling's fake, right?"

Ophelia sucked in a sharp breath. Her eyelid twitched. "Scripted," she said through clenched teeth, a rather manic smile on her face. Homulilly got the feeling that this was another subject she was getting a little sore about. "Not fake." Then she glanced over her shoulder to where Oktavia was taking the bird from the room. "And besides, Cheese's never said much before. How was I to know he would suddenly be so impressionable?"

"You fucking suck!" Cheese squawked back at her.

Ophelia held up her hands in exasperation. "Case in point." Then her face brightened. "Oh hey, you brought pie!"

With that, they all sat down, with Homulilly, Gretchen, and Dr. Cynthia taking one of the couches and Ophelia plopping down in the red recliner, her body relaxing into an immediate slouch that suggested that this was her chair and those who sat in it without her expressed permission did so at their own peril. Oktavia soon returned sans bird and spider-legged her way to take position opposite of Ophelia and across from their guests.

"So, where's Candeloro and Charlotte?" Dr. Cynthia asked as she looked around."

"Eh. Kitchen," Ophelia said with a shrug. "Where they stand guard over their hoard like a couple of greedy dragon-misers."

Gretchen blinked. "Dragon-misers?"

"She was sneaking food, and they kicked her out," Oktavia explained.

"Right," Dr. Cynthia said with a sigh. "Some things just never change." She looked over to Homulilly and Gretchen, who were noticeably quite confused. "Back when they were staying with us, we used to catch Ophelia trying to steal food from the kitchen all the time."

"Only some of the time," Ophelia grumbled. "And I got better."

"No you didn't," Oktavia said.

"I mean better at sneaking food. They only caught me like one time out of five by the end."

"You know I'm sitting right here," Dr. Cynthia reminded her, her tone mildly disapproving.

"So?" Ophelia shrugged. "I don't live with you anymore. Who you gonna report me to?"

Gretchen giggled. "You're funny, Ophelia-sempai."

Ophelia and Oktavia both looked at her in surprise. "You are?" Oktavia said, glancing over to Ophelia.

Ophelia grinned. "I like her. Can I keep her?"

"No!" Homulilly blurted out. Then she immediately reddened with embarrassment when she realized how loud she had been and how silly she had sounded. True enough, both Gretchen and Dr. Cynthia turned to look at her curiously. Homulilly winced and sank deeper into the cushions. She wished that she had the ability to turn back time, even for just a few seconds. It would certainly come in handy right about now.

Ophelia, however, was nonplussed. "Fine," she said casually. "You can come too."

"What?" Homulilly said, startled. Then everyone started laughing, confusing her more. "What?" she said again.

Ophelia grinned. Her canines were very sharp, practically fangs. She leaned back in her chair and called, "Hey, kitchen-bums! Guests are here, and you're not! They brought pie!"

"Coming!" someone said from a different room. There was the sound of someone scrambling, and then that someone appeared at the door.

She appeared to be around sixteen or seventeen and was tall for her age, a little over a meter and a half. Her body was slim and athletic, and she had a delicate, almost china-like face with skin that was as pale as alabaster. Her eyes were the color of robin eggs, and her short hair was dark pink and tied into twintails. She wore grey slacks and a button-down blue-and-white striped shirt.

Furthermore, hanging conspicuously behind her legs was a thin, black tail with red polka-dots.

Homulilly vaguely recognized her. It had been the librarian that the ribbon girl had been talking to, back during the tour.

"Sorry, sorry," the girl said hurriedly as she wiped her hands on a dishrag. "Delicate stage and all that. Hey, Cynthia!"

"Hi, Charlotte," Dr. Cynthia said. "Sorry to call you away."

"No worries, Candy's holding down the fort." She turned to the kids and smiled. "Hey, you're the ones Ophelia and Oktavia were going on about. I'm Charlotte, AKA the smart one. Welcome to our home!"

Remembering what they were there for, Homulilly intently studied the older girl's face, searching for some sign of that strange familiarity she had felt when she had met Ophelia and Oktavia. Next to her, Gretchen leaned forward to do the same.

Unfortunately, this time Homulilly didn't feel anything out of the ordinary. There was no rush of déjà vu, no odd connection, no sense of a shared past. Well, maybe a little, but it was so faint that Homulilly couldn't be sure that she wasn't simply imagining it. And while Charlotte's smile was certainly welcoming, she couldn't detect any flash of recognition in the other girl's eyes.

Homulilly felt disappointed, but then realized that if she didn't disguise it quickly, Charlotte would probably be offended. The problem was that she had come here fully expecting to have the same reaction to the other half of this Walpurgisnacht that she had to the other, and now that it had failed to happen, she was without a backup reaction.

Fortunately, Gretchen was far quicker to adapt, socially speaking. "I am very pleased to meet you, Charlotte-sama," she said. She stood up and bowed politely. "Thank you for inviting us to your home." A split second later Homulilly realized that she should probably follow her friend's lead, and quickly rose to do a hasty bow of her own.

Charlotte's brow rose. She looked pleased. "Hey, they have manners!" Then she looked to Ophelia, who had her feet propped up on the coffee table. "Why don't you have manners?"

"I do too have manners!" Ophelia said indignantly.

Oktavia coughed into her fist. "No, you don't."

"Aren't you supposed to take my side?" Ophelia said, looking a little hurt.

"No, I'm not."

Laughing, Charlotte walked over to claim the other recliner, affectionately jostling Oktavia's shaggy blue hair as she passed. Once seated, she leaned back and stuck her feet onto the coffee table as well.

Sighing, Dr. Cynthia turned to Gretchen and Homulilly. "You see the sort of stuff we had to put up with?"

"Hey, we weren't the ones sneaking off every other night to make out in the gymnasium," Ophelia muttered.

Charlotte rolled her eyes. "No, you did it out in the open."

"Yeah. It's called being honest. We had nothing to hide!"

Charlotte quirked an eyebrow and said nothing.

Gretchen giggled again. "Well, I think it's cute that you all got together." Then she blinked and her face changed. "I mean, in pairs." Her voice dropped to a slightly embarrassed tone. "Not…all four of you at once."

Charlotte and Ophelia both laughed. "Don't think the subject hasn't come up," Charlotte said.

"But it was decided that it would probably be too…complicated," Ophelia said with a noticeable wince. Homulilly blinked. That sounded like there was a story behind it.

Charlotte swung her legs down, leaned forward, and said in a conspiratorial whisper, "Though hey, if you two ever need some, ahem, 'privacy,' I know a lot of great places you could go."

Gretchen let out a squeak, and Homulilly's blush returned. "Oh!" Gretchen said. "Uh, m-me and Lilly-chan aren't actually…" She and Homulilly exchanged an awkward glance. "Not like that I mean!"

"Really?" Charlotte shrugged. "Eh, give it time."

Homulilly shot a pleading look to Dr. Cynthia, who fortunately looked a little annoyed. "Okay, this is the part where I remind you that Gretchen and Homulilly really do look their age, and are, in fact, minors," she said. "So some subjects are probably not meant for their ears."

A heavy silence followed. Then Oktavia whistled and said, "Aaaaaand you made it awkward."

And in one of those moments so perfectly timed that none of them were really able to argue that it wasn't intentional, Cheese called from somewhere else in the house, "Nice going, dumbass!"

Charlotte's face had turned an even brighter shade of red than Homulilly's. She inhaled deeply and slowly let it out. "Righty-ho then," she said as she stood up and quickly shuffled from the room. "I'll just excuse myself." Once she was in the hallway, they heard her call, "Hey, Candy! I said something embarrassing and made things weird, so I'm tagging you in!"

"Oh, Charlotte," said another voice, one that sounded exasperated. "I told you to…" And the rest of the sentence was too faint to comprehend.

Back in the living room, Gretchen and Oktavia both let out slightly awkward laughs, while Dr. Cynthia slowly shook her head. Ophelia glanced from one face to the next. Then she sat up and leaned forward as well.

"So…" she said.

Dr. Cynthia looked at her. "What?"

Focusing on Homulilly and Gretchen, Ophelia said, "Anything?"

Realizing what she was asking, Homulilly slowly shook her head.

"Maybe a little," Gretchen said. "But not really."

"Little of what?" Dr. Cynthia said.

Oktavia sighed. "Well, that's sort of a letdown," she said, giving her fins a disappointed looking flip.

"What is?" Dr. Cynthia asked, but before anyone could answer, the fourth member of the Walpurgisnacht entered the room to salvage the situation.

Homulilly and Kriemheld Gretchen both stared.

She was about Charlotte's age, perhaps a year or two younger. In contrast to her wife, she was much shorter, barely taller than Homulilly, with a curvier form and rounder face. Her eyes were golden, and so was her hair, which she wore in a loose ponytail that hung partway down her back. She wore a black apron over a cheery pink shirt and a yellow skirt.

What was more, where most people had arms, hands, and fingers, she had two yellow ribbons that hung from her shoulders. This came with the obvious problem of not having fingers, but given how flexible they were, she seemed to be compensating well.

As expected, it was the girl from the library, the first that Homulilly and Gretchen had felt a connection to. And now that they were meeting face-to-face, it was even stronger.

Seeing Homulilly and Gretchen's stunned expressions, Ophelia snickered. She leaned forward and whispered, "She's taken, you know."

Having rushed over in a hurry, Candeloro looked a bit frazzled. "Hello, I'm so sorry about that."

"It's okay," Dr. Cynthia said. "I warned them in advance."

"It was an accident!" Charlotte called from the kitchen.

Sighing, Candeloro shook her head and smiled. "Anyway, you are Homulilly and Kriemhild Gretchen, right?" She inclined her head. "My name is Candeloro. It's an absolute pleasure to meet…" Then her brow knitted together. "Huh. Say, have we met?"

Homulilly was speechless. While she would admit to being disappointed at not having much of a reaction to Charlotte, the one she got when Candeloro entered the room more than made up for it. She knew this girl. She was sure of it. She wasn't sure when or where, but she did know that she knew this girl.

…

As it turned out, reports of Candeloro and Charlotte's culinary skills were not exaggerated. And Homulilly decided that their decision to ban Ophelia from the kitchen was perfectly justifiable.

The main course was a sort of pale green sauce with pieces of chicken and broccoli poured over steamed rice. Apparently it was called chicken divan, though Ophelia and Oktavia kept calling it "compy." When asked why, they had simply shrugged and said it was a long story. There was also fried potatoes and a crumbly hunk of sourdough bread for each of them. Dessert was a chocolate soufflé, which was the reason the kitchen could not have been left unmanned.

There was eating, there was talking, and there was laughter. Fortunately, no one singled out Homulilly for conversation. When a question came their way, Gretchen and Dr. Cynthia usually fielded it, leaving her free to actually enjoy her very tasty meal.

At the moment, Oktavia was busy explaining how she and her friends made a living. "See, originally we were thinking of starting a business together, but that's not exactly easy in this town."

"Things around here don't change much," Candeloro added, spearing a piece of broccoli with her fork. "You see the same stores, run by the same people, and everything stays the same, year in and year out."

Ophelia said, "Makes it hard for something new to get a good footing, you know what we mean?"

"I can see," Gretchen nodded. "So, what did you do?"

"Got jobs all over," Oktavia said. "You already saw me teaching music, and I also do freelance work for all the aquatic installations whenever they need to do some deep diving. And believe me, there are a _lot._ Fishing companies, research groups, exploration, photography, that sort of thing. Ophelia works for the electric company, Charlotte's a librarian, and Candeloro's a manager at the Honey Hive."

"It's a bakery, down on Catalina Drive," Candeloro explained. "You should pop by sometime."

Gretchen smiled. "We will!" she promised.

Oktavia nodded. "Yeah, between the four of us, we do pretty good. It's a pretty cool arrangement."

"I think it's great," Gretchen said dreamily. "Close friends, all working together, sharing a home. Sharing a life."

Ophelia snickered and shot Charlotte a knowing look. Involuntarily everyone else ended up doing the same.

Charlotte sighed. "I didn't say anything."

Gretchen winced when she realized what was being implied. "Not like that."

"Tell _them_ that," Charlotte said, a bit sulkily.

"Hey, I'm gonna side with Charly here," Ophelia said. "If she keeps feeding her lines…"

Gretchen huffed. "I didn't mean anything naughty by it!"

"It's okay," Candeloro said reassuringly. "We know what you meant."

Then Oktavia smiled. "Though speaking of which, maybe we'd better get to the real reason why you're here?" The mermaid looked to Gretchen and Homulilly. "You know, wink wink, nudge nudge?"

Homulilly blinked. She and Gretchen exchanged a look of surprise. During the course of the meal, she had almost forgotten about that.

"Real reason?" Charlotte said with a frown.

Ophelia cleared her throat. "Uh, yeah." She turned to the married couple. "So, Candeloro. Charlotte. Tell us: when you guys met the kids, did you feel anything?"

Charlotte stared. "Feel anything?" she repeated.

"Yeah, any sort of, you know, reflexive emotion?"

"Is this going somewhere it shouldn't?" Charlotte said, folding her arms.

Candeloro frowned. "W-well, I have to admit, I did get the strangest sense of déjà vu…"

Homulilly's felt the heart she no longer had leap in her chest, and Gretchen's eyes brightened. However, that was nothing compared to Oktavia's reaction. "Yes!" the mermaid cheered as she threw up her hands. "Hole in one, baby! Hole in one!"

She stuck her palm into the air, and Ophelia gleefully clapped it with her own.

Charlotte scratched her head. Then she turned to Homulilly and Gretchen. "Can someone translate Oktavia and Ophelia babbling into normal everyday talk?"

"But you guys felt it too, right?" Oktavia pressed them before they could answer. "Like, what we were talking about?"

Homulilly took a deep breath. "Yes," she said.

"Definitely," Gretchen nodded. "It was very strong." Then she glanced to Charlotte. "Well, sort of."

"I'm lost," Charlotte complained. "No, wait, getting lost requires knowing where we were going. I'm confused. What's going on?"

"You felt it too, right Lilly-chan?" Gretchen asked, her smiled wide.

Homulilly nodded. "Yes. It was the same as before. At least for Candeloro-sempai."

Candeloro blinked. "For me?"

"But not for Charlotte?" Ophelia said.

Homulilly shook her head. "No. I mean, I guess a little, but…"

Charlotte cleared her throat. "Hey, uh, this isn't revenge for slipping up earlier, is it?"

"If it is, they neglected to bring me on it," Candeloro said.

Oktavia nodded. "But yeah. Candy. You definitely felt this weird sense of familiarity when you saw them, right? Like you used to know them but weren't sure from where?"

This earned her a surprised look. "Yes," Candeloro said. She tilted her head to one side. "Do you know why?"

Then Candeloro's eyes widened. "Wait, hold up. This isn't some sort of soul resonance thing?"

"Maybe," Ophelia said.

Now Candeloro looked very confused. "But Homulilly and Gretchen weren't with us when we arrived! They're not part of our Walpurgisnacht!"

Charlotte cleared her throat again. "Hey, not to be a wet blanket here, but can someone please explain to me what in the hell everyone is talking about?"

Grinning, Ophelia turned to her and said, "Oktavia and I met one of these two separately, total coincidence. And both of us got this weird feeling that we already knew each other. They felt the same thing, and it only got stronger when we all got together."

"So, you brought them here to see if we would have the same reaction?" Charlotte guessed.

"That," Ophelia nodded. "And we wanted to hang out. I like them. I like them. They're cool."

Charlotte turned to Candeloro. "Wait, and you felt the same thing?"

Candeloro looked a bit beside herself. "I…wasn't sure if I should say anything, but…"

"Wait, wait, wait, hold up," Charlotte said in slight frustration. Even with the explanations she looked no closer to being caught up. "Stop. Look, I get the weird familiarity thing. We all had it when we arrived. We're a Walpurgisnacht. That's what's supposed to happen. But they weren't there! They were alive long after we were!"

Gretchen nodded and declared, "Yes, but maybe we were all friends once!"

"Huh?" Charlotte said, staring.

"We figure we probably all knew each other," Oktavia explained.

"You mean we were friends?" Candeloro asked.

The mermaid shrugged. "Well, why not? I mean, the times line up, and we're all about the same age." She paused, and amended, "Well, were. I mean, what if we were all some big Puella Magi super-team and all that?"

"So, this would be a big reunion for us!" Gretchen said, sounding excited.

Candeloro's face was softening, but she still looked a little less than convinced. "But those sorts of team-ups were fairly rare from what I understand. Most Puella Magi spent their time competing with one another."

"But they did happen!" Oktavia insisted.

Charlotte shook her head. "Yeah, uh, but I still didn't feel anything. And they didn't recognize me either."

"Nothing at all?" Ophelia asked. She sounded a little disappointed.

"No." Then Charlotte looked thoughtful. "Well, maybe a little. Like, enough for a double-take I guess. But not what you're saying. "

Ophelia frowned. "Well, maybe you were new or something?"

"Sure," Charlotte said doubtfully. "Or I was the witch that killed you all, and that's why they don't recognize me."

Oktavia flicked a piece of bread at her. "We're all witches too, remember? Witches don't kill other witches."

"Though sometimes you guys make it real tempting," Ophelia said, her scarlet eyes suddenly moody. "Like Charlotte did yesterday."

Charlotte sighed. "You want to save that potroast, put your name on it instead of just leaving it in the fridge. Otherwise, it's fair game."

No doubt seeing that another senseless argument was about to derail things, Gretchen spoke up. "Well, even if we'll never know if we knew each other or not, there's definitely a connection there. And we all know each other now, so that's great!"

Candeloro said, "But you're still making a lot of assumptions and…" Then she stopped and looked thoughtful. Then she smiled. "Actually, you know what? You're right. There's no way of knowing for sure, and I like your theory better anyway." She raised her glass in salute. "To rediscovered friends."

"To rediscovered friends!" the others said enthusiastically, and they all clinked their glasses together. And if anyone noticed that Charlotte hesitated a split-second before joining in, they made no mention of it.

…

On the whole, Dr. Cynthia was quite pleased with the results of the evening.

Her job was to help the newly arrived come to terms with their deaths and help them integrate into Freehaven's society (or wherever they chose to go), and that was exactly what was happening. And while Homulilly was far from the worst case she had ever seen, she was still dead last in terms of progress and the one that she felt would require the most careful touch.

But now a chance encounter had given her the connection that she needed. Dr. Cynthia wasn't sure if she truly bought that the rambunctious foursome that had given her so many headaches during their own stay with the FIB had actually been close friends and comrades of the their two new additions, but she saw no real reason to disbelieve it. Soul resonance was a hotly debated phenomenon, but she had seen enough to side with its validity. Witches might have no conscious memory of their past lives, but echoes of those memories remained, and some connections lingered.

Besides, if it helped a pair of young witches come to terms with their new lives, then she was in full support. It wasn't like anyone would be able to disprove their claims anyway.

However, as everyone gathered in the living room for after dinner tea, she noticed that while everyone was chatting, laughing, and generally having a good time, there was someone who was setting herself apart from the group, someone who wasn't saying much and for the most part keeping to herself. And for once, it wasn't Homulilly.

Dr. Cynthia kept an eye on her. And when she silently got up to go into the back, Dr. Cynthia waited until no one was looking at her to follow.

She found Charlotte standing on the back porch all by herself, leaning over the railing and looking out into the night, a lit cigarette held between two fingers. The backyard wasn't fenced, and directly connected into the small forest that bordered the neighborhood, which undoubtedly made for a fantastic setting if one felt like brooding.

Sighing, Dr. Cynthia went up stand next to her. Charlotte glanced briefly at her and sighed as well.

The two women didn't say anything for a while. They just stood together, watching the forest, listening to the sounds of the night, which there was a lot more than one might think: the chirping insects, the hooting of owls, and the croaking of frogs. One thing one could say about the lands around Freehaven is that it had a healthy nightlife.

Finally Dr. Cynthia spoke. "So, I couldn't help but notice that you've been unusually quiet this evening."

Charlotte sighed again and took a drag from her cigarette. "Was I that obvious?"

"Well, no, but with all the recognizing going on and everyone talking about connections, I did note that there was one person probably feeling left out." Dr. Cynthia glanced at Charlotte. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. It's just…" Charlotte slowly breathed out a cloud of smoke. She turned around and leaned back against the railing, staring up at the moonlight sky. "This is just so weird, I guess. I mean, we always kind of figured…you know, the four of us…that I was sort of the odd woman odd. All three of them had that weird déjà vu thing going on with each other when we all woke up, but no one recognized me, and I didn't recognize any of them, so I guess I wasn't part of whatever supergroup they used to have going. I mean, hell, they all had to have witched out all at once, right? So let's face it: I was probably already a witch, and they were fighting me when whatever the hell went down went down, so I'm probably the cause."

"Or," Dr. Cynthia suggested, "it could be like Ophelia said: you were just a new member to the group, someone they didn't already know and wouldn't have had the same connection with."

"Yeah, maybe," Charlotte said after a pause, though her tone said that she didn't hold to that theory. "But anyway, it was kind of weird at first, but I got over it. I mean, who cares, right? We're still a Walpurgisnacht, my soul was a much a part of the mix as theirs, and we're all here now." She shrugged and ground the remains of her cigarette into a small clay dish sitting on the post next to her. "But all of a sudden, they go and meet two random girls that none of us have ever met before, and it looks like they were all the best of friends, probably the remaining members of that supergroup of theirs, and I…wasn't."

"Yeah, I can see how that would be upsetting," Dr. Cynthia admitted. "I guess we did kind of intrude a little."

Charlotte shrugged. "Oh, those kids seem fine, and if they're going to be around from now on, I don't have a problem with it. I just…I don't know, I just wish I knew more of what happened to me, you know?" She shook her head and let out a small laugh. "Wow, this is weird. I mean, I haven't even thought of all this stuff since we were in the FIB, but now, all of a sudden…"

"It just comes rushing back," Dr. Cynthia finished for her.

"Yeah."

The two of them stared up at the sky for a time. And then Dr. Cynthia said, "Do you remember that line I would always use, whenever one of you would be upset about not having any memories or anything?"

"Of course I do," Charlotte snorted. "The one about how we witches are the lucky ones, since no memories means nothing holding us back, and we can just leap right into our new lives without mourning those we've lost or regretting our past mistakes?"

"That's the one," Dr. Cynthia nodded. "And I actually do believe that. But there's another side to that coin. True, the Puella Magi have more regrets, more trauma, and more grief, but the one thing they don't have are questions. They remember what they wished for, they remember their families, they remember their lives, they remember everything."

"Including their names," Charlotte said.

"Yeah," Dr. Cynthia sighed. "Including their names. And I guess there is something of a peace to that, to never have to wonder who you are or where you came from. I mean, I sure as hell don't want to know how I _died,_ but at least I wouldn't have to wonder anymore."

"Huh," Charlotte said, quirking an eyebrow at her. "You mean, even after all this time, you still wonder?"

Dr. Cynthia slowly breathed out. "Charlotte, I'm surrounded by kids every day trying to come to grips with who they are. Nearly every day I have a girl breaking down into tears in my office because she doesn't even know her original name. It's…hard to not think about it."

"Jesus. I'd say you probably ought to see a therapist, but…"

"Every second Thursday," Dr. Cynthia admitted.

Charlotte blinked. "Wait, really?"

Dr. Cynthia shrugged. "Everyone needs help sometimes. And I can't help these kids if I let myself turn into a basket case."

"Well, shit. Does that mean your therapist also has a therapist."

"Oh, it's therapists all the way down. Just a never-ending chain of therapists."

The two women laughed a little at that.

Then Charlotte wrinkled her nose. "Aw, goddamn it. I just had a freaky thought."

…

Homulilly stood in her hosts' bathroom, staring at herself in the mirror.

The bathroom had a seaside theme to it, with seashells sitting on the shelves and surrounding the mirror, pictures of the beach, and a tiny hula dancer sitting on the counter whose skirt shook if you poked it. The room smelled of jasmine and looked like it had been recently cleaned, probably in anticipation of guests. Homulilly barely noticed. Her mind was elsewhere.

Her gloves were off and her head was bare, displaying the white bones of her arms and hands and the crimson spider-lily that sprouted from the top of her head. She looked down at the skeletal phalanges of her fingers and moved her arm to the side, peering at the counter through the gap in the bones of her forearm.

They had been here for a few hours, and so far, nobody had remarked on how she always wore gloves. She had kept the spider-lily on her head in full display to distract them, but they had said nothing about that either. Even Gretchen's odd style of legs had passed without comment. In fact, Candeloro and Charlotte hadn't so much as blinked when they had seen them.

 _You should tell them,_ said that voice in her head, the one that sounded a lot like Gretchen.

She shook her head.

_They're all witches. They won't judge. Besides, Candeloro has different arms too. Oktavia is only half human, Dr. Cynthia is part machine, and Gretchen's change is even stranger than yours._

_It's different!_ Homulilly insisted. _Everyone else's is interesting! People love mermaids. Candeloro's arms are funny. Dr. Cynthia is cool. And Gretchen's legs are…well, interesting. Mine are monstrous._

_They won't think so. And won't it be a relief not to worry about it anymore._

Homulilly took a deep breath. Well, yes, it would feel wonderful not to always feel like she had to hide, to not feel others' eyes always on her and wonder if they knew. But if she did go out and reveal how she really looked well…

What if they were horrified? What if they screamed or became sick?

Or worse? What if they lied? What if they kindly told her that they didn't think she was ugly but still look upon her with disgust? That would probably be the worst of them all.

No. Maybe one day she might work up the courage to confess her abnormalities, but this was not that day. She couldn't take the risk. Sighing, she started to slip her gloves back on.

And then, despite it being locked, the door opened.

In hindsight, she ought to have seen it coming. There seemed to be a certain universal law that stated that the more one tried to conceal some dark secret from others, circumstances will conspire to reveal that secret purely by chance. Tongues will slip, letters will be left out, certain objects will poke just barely into view, and so on. And despite its common use in comedy and drama alike, the sad fact of the matter is that, sooner or later, nearly everything will come to light, often in the most embarrassing way possible.

In this case, the culprit was a faulty doorknob. Had Homulilly asked, she might have learned that one needed to give the door an extra push to make sure it closed properly. Otherwise, it still might swing open with a touch, locked or not. Alas, Homulilly had no cause to ask, and as she had slipped away rather stealthily, none of her hosts had reason to tell her.

Even then, if she had better reflexes the situation might have been avoided. She had one glove on already, and the other was already halfway up her arm when the door opened. All she had to do was quickly yank it up all the way, and there would have been no problem.

But she didn't. Instead, she froze like a poor critter that had come to the sudden realization that crossing the road late at night was not such a great idea, and those lights probably did not come with the best of intentions. She stood mortified as the door opened completely and Ophelia walked in, one hand in her pocket while she hummed to herself.

Ophelia looked up and, seeing Homulilly, blushed bright scarlet. "Oh shit! Sorry," she said. "Didn't know anyone was-" Then she frowned and peered in closer. "Oh wow. Are those _bones?_ Well, that's just-"

When she was later questioned about what happened, Ophelia would claim to have no clue about what she did wrong. She just knew that Homulilly let out a shrill shriek and fled from the bathroom to the hall, to the kitchen, out the back door, and into the night, leaving Ophelia standing stupefied behind her.

…

Dr. Cynthia glanced over to Charlotte. "Hmmm?"

"Well, let's say we're all right about this, that they all were like a team of Puella Magi working together," Charlotte said, motioning toward the house. "But if Candeloro, Ophelia, Oktavia, and me all turned into witches and fused, and those kids didn't witch out until much later, then doesn't that mean that those two were probably the ones that took our Walpurgisnacht down?"

Dr. Cynthia didn't respond.

"I mean, it only makes sense, right?" Charlotte pressed. She grimaced. "Hell, they probably saw them witch out and all of us fuse. I mean, Jesus."

Shivering, Dr. Cynthia said, "You may be right. But, um, I wouldn't bring it up. Better just leave that thought unspoken."

"Yeah, no kidding. Wow, that is really-"

And then they heard the sound of someone screaming.

Dr. Cynthia and Charlotte both froze. "The hell…?" Charlotte muttered.

Moments later Homulilly came bursting out the back door. She rushed past the two women without acknowledging their presence, down the steps, and through the backyard to disappear into the forest.

"Homulilly, wait!" Dr. Cynthia called, but it was too late. The girl was _gone._

"Lilly-chan?" Gretchen rushed out into the back porch, a very bewildered Candeloro following behind. "Wait! Where'd you go? What happened?"

She frantically turned toward Dr. Cynthia and Charlotte, her lightly glowing pink eyes wide and pleading. "What happened to her? Why'd she run?"

Before either of them could even begin to come up with a response, a very frazzled looking Ophelia staggered out to join them. "She's gone, isn't she?" she said.

Charlotte glared lasers into her roommate. "What. Did. You. Do?"

"It was an accident!" Ophelia protested. "I walked in on her by mistake in the bathroom, and she had her gloves off, and…"

"Oh, God," Dr. Cynthia groaned, squeezing her eyes shut and pinching the bridge of her nose in exasperation.

"What?" Charlotte said, her face screwing up in confusion.

"She had, like, skeleton arms and hands!" Ophelia said, holding her own hands out, fingers splayed wide.

"Wait, she does?" Oktavia said, maneuvering her chair to join to join the rest of them. "Cool!"

Gretchen looked like she was about to burst into tears.

"No," Dr. Cynthia said icily. "Not cool. She's extremely sensitive about it. That's why she freaked out when you saw."

"Oh, goddamn it, Ophelia," Charlotte groaned, slapping a hand across her own face.

"It was an accident!" Ophelia said again.

"Okay, okay," said Candeloro, holding her ribbons out in a placating manner. "Let's calm down now. Ophelia didn't do it on purpose."

"Yeah, well, it's still my responsibility," Ophelia said, heading back inside.

"Where are you going?" Dr. Cynthia called after her.

"Getting some help! If I'm going to find the kid, I need the one person that knows that forest better than anyone!"

…

_Seven minutes later…_

Homulilly was sitting huddled among the gnarled roots of an old oak. Her eyes were wet and blotchy from crying, and she sniffled softly to herself. Both gloves were gone: removed, and flung into the dirt. She clutched her bony arms together and held them tightly to her chest as she gently rocked and forth. Cheese was there, perched on her shoulder and chattering wordlessly to himself. He had just flown up to her and landed on her shoulder, and she had let him. At least _he_ wouldn't judge her.

Then she heard the sound of soft footsteps. Moments later Ophelia appeared, walking through the underbrush. Homulilly's body clenched up, and she stared down at the ground.

Ophelia quirked an eyebrow at rejected gloves and went to go sit beside Homulilly. "Hey," she said.

Homulilly sniffed. She glanced at her and gave a brief nod of her head, but said nothing.

"You okay?"

"Y-yeah." Homulilly looked over to Cheese, who had stopped chattering and was respectfully keeping his peace. For once. "He came. He came and just sat there."

"Yeah, that's how I found you." Ophelia took a handful of nuts from her pocket and held them out to the bird, who happily partook of them. "We let him out to look for you. He's kind of a pain sometimes, but a lot smarter than he lets on. And nobody knows this forest better than him."

Ophelia leaned back onto her elbows. "So, I'm guessing I wasn't supposed to see those arms of yours?"

Cringing, Homulilly held them closer. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I didn't mean to run away. I just got…scared."

"Of what?"

Homulilly swallowed. "That you would be scared of me."

Ophelia frowned. "Why?"

"Because…" Homulilly held her arms out, the bones clicking as they rubbed against each other. "Look at me! They're hideous! Everyone else has all these cool things like tails and ribbons and stuff like that, but I look like something you put up to scare kids on Halloween! I'm a dead thing, a monster, and-"

She stopped talking and blinked down at her hands. They now held a chocolate chip cookie. She looked over to Ophelia, who was calmly munching on a cookie of her own. Unsure of what else she could do, Homulilly gingerly bit into her own cookie. It was freshly baked, warm and gooey.

"Be careful, or the birdbrain'll snatch it right out of your hands," Ophelia told her. She finished her own cookie and brushed the crumbs off against a tree root. "So, I guess this is something you've been hiding from people? Because you're afraid of how they'll react."

Homulilly sniffled and nodded.

"Who else knows?"

"Only a few people," Homulilly said, drawing her knees up to her chest. "Dr. Cynthia, of course. A couple others at the FIB. This one girl that I…never mind. And Gretchen, of course. I mean, she was there. When we. You know, arrived."

"Oh yeah. That." Ophelia couldn't help but snigger. Their own first day in had been quite memorable. For a number of reasons.

Homulilly blushed and quickly changed the subject. "But she's been saying I shouldn't hide them. That people won't be scared. But I just can't…" She looked to Ophelia with tear-moistened eyes. "Are you scared?"

"Of your arms?" Ophelia shook her head. "No."

"You don't think they're creepy?"

Ophelia sighed. "You know how Tavi said I work for the electric company?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, there's this one chick I work with who's part bat. As if in, she's got a bat nose and bat ears and bat wings and really tiny bat eyes." Ophelia shrugged. "Don't bother me any. And I've seen plenty of people around town who are way freakier than you'll ever be. Again, don't bother me any."

Homulilly said nothing, though she did not look convinced.

"Homulilly, I've been here for about eight years, and I have seen some weird sh-Crap. Some weird crap. I've seen girls with wings, with wolf noses, with four eyeballs, with wheels for feet, with no skin. Yeah, those bones are a little unusual, but so what? Candy's got ribbons for arms. At least you've got parts that are supposed to be there. Heck, it's kinda cool when you think about it. You're like one of the few people that actually has bones."

"It makes me a freak," Homulilly said darkly.

Well then. Nothing for it. "Hey, wanna see something weird?"

Homulilly looked confused.

"All right. Check this out."

Ophelia stood up and walked until she was clear of any easily combustible foliage. Then she reached up, sank her fingers into her scalp, and pulled the entire top and back of her head right off.

Homulilly squeaked in surprise as the flames rushed out, chasing the shadows away. Cheese, who was accustomed to it, merely cocked his head to one side and let out a muffled squawk.

Ophelia stood there, completely unconcerned about the fact that her head was now on fire. Or rather, fire was coming out of her head, from right above her neck to behind her ears to her scalp. "Yeah, this is my witchy part. I'm not actually bald," she said, pointing at the flames. "This is what I have for hair. And this…" she held up the rubbery artificial piece of skin she had removed from her head "…is what I gotta wear so I don't scorch ceilings, burn down trees, and set off smoke alarms."

Homulilly openly gaped at the sight. "Your…you _head._ It's on _fire!"_

"No, part of me is _made_ of fire," Ophelia sighed. "There's a difference."

"But…wow." Homulilly stood up and cautiously approached. Preferring that there be some distance between him and the fire, Cheese fluttered down from her shoulder to perch on a gnarled old root.

"Can I touch it?" she asked, extending a finger.

"I'd prefer that you didn't," Ophelia said. She pulled the fake skin back on, and the flames disappeared, to Homulilly's disappointment. "Especially since, you know, it's fire. Don't hurt me any when I touch it, but everyone else usually needs a lot of cold water afterward." She shrugged. "But hey, like I was saying, you have no monopoly on the freaky witchy parts. Hell, put us together, and which one do you think will turn more heads?"

Homulilly stared. "But…it's so beautiful."

"It's a pain in the butt is what it is," Ophelia complained. "Do you know how much it cost to fireproof my clothes?" She lifted the edge of the fake skin with her thumb, exposing a glowing yellow sliver. "And if this so much as slips, then we've got property damages to pay. Looks cool in photos, sure, but it's a major inconvenience. I'm a walking match-head."

Homulilly looked away.

Ophelia shrugged. "But anyway, my point is, sure. Maybe some of the other new girls will think you're weird and scary. So what? They're new. They'll learn. People freak out when they see Cynthia all the time, and she's like one of the nicest people we know. This town is full of witches, many of them weirder than you'll ever be. And to practically everybody, people who think being a witch is weird are the weird ones. So yeah. Maybe back in the world of the living, you'd be a freak. Sure. But when you're in the world of freaks, you just come off as kind of normal." Quirking a scarlet eyebrow, she took Homulilly's skeletal hand in her own and held up. Homulilly flinched, but she didn't pull away. "And to be honest, I think those things are kinda badass."

"Badass?"

Ophelia winked. "Don't go telling Oktavia I said that. She'll get on me for teaching you swear words."

"Oh." Homulilly looked down at her hands, as if reconsidering them. "Um, thank you."

"Welcome."

"What should…what should I tell the others?"

"Whatever you want," Ophelia said. She crooked her elbow and whistled. Cheese came flying to her arm and climbed up onto her shoulder. "But don't be scared of them. No one in our home is gonna make you feel unwelcome"

Homulilly looked down. Sniffing, she nodded.

"Cool." Ophelia glanced over her shoulder. "Well, we'd better head better. The others were pretty worried." Her eyes fell on the thrown gloves. "So, uh, about your gloves…"

Homulilly hesitated, and then scampered over to retrieve them. Then she slipped them on.

Ophelia nodded. "Alrighty." She walked down the slope of roots towards the house. "Let's get going then."

…

_Later that night…_

"Lilly-chan?"

Homulilly had changed into her pajamas and was sitting upright in bed, looking out the window in thought.

"Homulilly-chan? Are you sure you're okay?"

Breathing out, Homulilly turned to Gretchen, who was sitting in her own bed, her concerned eyes glowing faintly in the dark.

"Yes," Homulilly said. "I am."

They hadn't said much after Homulilly had returned with Ophelia. Sure, Gretchen had been all over her in concern, but after assuring her that she was fine and apologizing for scaring everyone, Homulilly had fallen silent, giving only one-word answers when addressed directly, if she answered at all. She had just been too tired.

But now they were alone, in a place that Homulilly felt safe, with someone she felt safe with, so it was okay to start talking again.

"I'm, uh, sorry I ruined the party," Homulilly said. "I just-"

"Oh, no, no, no!" Gretchen exclaimed. "You didn't ruin anything! We would've had to head home soon anyway."

"Yeah, but-" Homulilly cut herself off with a sigh. "Never mind. But I'm fine. I just…got surprised."

There was a pause, and then Gretchen said, "But…Ophelia-sempai cheered you up?"

"I guess you could say that," Homulilly admitted. "I mean, she was kind of like a Dr. Cynthia with more swear words, but I don't think that's a bad thing." She looked down at her hands. "And she wasn't scared of me."

"Of course she wasn't! And when Oktavia-sempai found out, she thought it was cool!"

Homulilly winced. She knew that Gretchen was just trying to be encouraging, but she still didn't like the idea of four people she barely knew knowing her secret.

But now they did know, and there was no taking that back.

There was a long, thoughtful pause, and then Gretchen said, "They were pretty cool, weren't they?"

"They were," Homulilly said, and for once without hesitation.

"Do you…still want to be friends with them?"

"I…I do."

Gretchen snuggled herself back into her blanket and laid her head back onto her pillow. "It's strange though, that feeling of already knowing them."

"It is," Homulilly agreed as she slid down into her own blanket. "Still…I like them. They don't scare me."

"I'm glad." Even in the dark, Homulilly could still hear the smile in Gretchen's voice.

Homulilly closed her eyes. It did feel strange, to have been exposed like that, have a meltdown, and yet still feel more-or-less okay afterward. Something about her talk with Ophelia, as crass as she was, was soothing, and she hadn't said much more than Dr. Cynthia always did.

But then, Dr. Cynthia, as much as Homulilly felt comfortable around her, was still a professional. It was her job to help weird girls calm down, so it made sense that she wasn't bothered by her arms. Ophelia was someone new, and she still hadn't been scared. And if anything, her reason for having to cover up her witch remnant was even more extreme than Homulilly's. Sure, having fire for hair was cool, but Homulilly's arms didn't have the risk of burning down buildings.

Regardless, Homulilly was glad to have met them, and she felt more comfortable than ever as she slowly drifted off.

Then something Ophelia had said suddenly jolted into her mind, and her eyes popped wide open.

"Gretchen-chan!" she gasped, sitting straight up.

Gretchen was up in a second. "What? What is it?"

"Our new friends! Ophelia-sempai told me…" The words got gnarled up in her throat, and she coughed.

"What is it, Lilly-chan?" Gretchen said.

Swallowing, Homulilly said, "Ophelia-sempai told me that they had been here in the afterlife for over _eight years!"_

"Eight years?" Gretchen repeated in bemusement. "So…" Suddenly she got it, and the burning discs of her eyes popped open wide. "Wait! That would mean…"

Homulilly did the math in her head. "If they've been here so long, then how could we have known them when they were alive?"

…

"Char? Are you okay?"

Candeloro was watching her wife, who had been very quiet ever since the kids had gone home. Charlotte was lying next to her in the bed that they shared, and normally the two would spend the time talking or reading together, but Charlotte had silently undressed, crawled into bed, and turned away from her, a sure sign that something was bothering her.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Charlotte said at last. "Things are just kind of weird right now."

Candeloro snuggled up to her, slipping her ribbons around her waist. "I'm sorry. We didn't mean to make you feel left out."

"Oh, relax," Charlotte sighed. "It's fine. It's not like you knew. And I had a good long talk with Cynthia. I'll be all right."

"Are you okay with Homulilly and Gretchen being around?"

Charlotte paused. Then she shifted around so that they were facing one another. "Do you want to keep in touch with them?"

Candeloro nodded. "I do. I honestly do feel a kind of special connection to them. But if it's going to make you uncomfortable-"

Sighing, Charlotte reached up to stroke her wife's hair. "Candy, you know I'm not going to get in the way of making friends. If this is important to you, then I totally support it! Besides, they seem like good kids. I just wish Oktavia and Ophelia gave us something of a head's up to what was going on."

Candeloro frowned. "Yeah, I might have to talk to them about that. I'm sure they thought it would be a great surprise, but they didn't really think through some of the implications."

Charlotte rolled her eyes. "Oh, let them have their fun. No harm was meant, and I don't want to rain on their parade. They're probably feeling very pleased right now for staging this little reunion."

…

Oktavia awoke to the feel of something thrashing against her back.

For a brief, confusing moment, as her mind tried to switch gears from asleep to awake, she had no idea where she was or what was moving against her, and she found herself believing that she was struggling against some great sea squid, far beneath the waves.

The moment passed quickly and she remembered where she was. Turning over, she saw Ophelia was moving restlessly, tangling herself up in the sheets. Her eyes were still closed in sleep, but if her contorted face was any indication, her dreams were anything but peaceful.

"Hey," said Oktavia, who had seen this happen many times before. She shook Ophelia by the shoulder. "Babe. Wake up."

Ophelia moaned in distress and mumbled something incomprehensible.

"Ophelia!" Oktavia shook her girlfriend's shoulder harder. This time Ophelia's eyes snapped open and her eyes darted around wildly.

"Ophelia, are you okay?" Oktavia asked when Ophelia's gaze finally settled on her. The flame-headed witch didn't respond at her, instead staring right at the mermaid with her hands still clenched in the air over her.

Then Ophelia relaxed, letting her arms fall. "Aw geez," she groaned. "Again with this shit?"

"The drowning one again?" Oktavia said, easing over onto her stomach.

"Nah. You'd _think_ , seeing how often it happens, but no. It was the other death, the one from the fall on day one. Remember?"

Oktavia shivered. Day one was nothing something any of them were going to forget, Ophelia least of all. "All too well. Weird that you'd have that one though."

Ophelia shrugged. "Ah, well, Homulilly and I talked a little about our first days here, so I guess that got it lodged in my subconscious."

"I guess. Are you okay now?"

Ophelia breathed out. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry for waking you." She turned over, her back to Oktavia, and pulled the blanket up again.

Oktavia waited for a few moments. When Ophelia didn't say anything further, she sighed and sank back into her pillow, still worried.

She had just closed her eyes when she heard Ophelia say suddenly, "Hey, Tavi?"

"Mmmm?"

"You're gonna still be here when I wake up, right?"

Oktavia blinked. She turned to Ophelia, whose back was still to her. She was shaking.

After a moment Oktavia pressed in close to her, wrapping her arms around Ophelia's middle and resting her chin on her shoulder. "Forever and always. You know that, right?"

Ophelia slowly stopped trembling. "Right. Sorry."

"You're stuck with me forever. Get used to it."

Ophelia let out a small laugh. She turned in Oktavia's embrace, facing her. "Guess I am. Sorry. My head's still all addled."

"When isn't it?"

Ophelia laughed again. Then she relaxed, her breathing evening out. They fell asleep together, holding each other in the dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, we're ten chapters in, and seeing how many of you are probably still wondering where in the hell the idea for this story came from and why Charlotte looks nothing like Nagisa Momoe, I suppose I might as well introduce myself now.
> 
> Hello everyone, my name is TakerFoxx, and I've been writing PMMM fanfiction for over eight years now.
> 
> See, like a lot of people, I was heavily invested in Sayaka and Kyoko's story, and was absolutely devastated when they died, to the extent that I completely checked out for the rest of the series. However, it did get me thinking about what was waiting for them on the other side, if they would indeed reunite in the afterlife and what adventures they would have, and if there was a special afterlife specifically for Puella Magi and witches, and what sort of rules it would have, what its society would be like, whether or not it would have magical girls from aliens species or not, and so on. And now inspired, I decided to turn that idea into a story about Kyoko and Sayaka (now Oktavia)'s adventures in the afterlife, alongside Mami and Charlotte, who they met fairly early on. And since this was over a full years before The Rebellion Story came out, Charlotte looks very different from Nagisa Momoe.
> 
> The story ended up being called Resonance Days, and it's now one of the oldest and longest PMMM fanfics still active. However, unlike Walpurgis Nights, it is more of a fantasy/sci-fi action/adventure, one that's rated a pretty hard R for explicit violence and the sort of mind-screws one might expect from PMMM.
> 
> However, after that story had been running for a few years, someone asked me what the witch forms of all the megucas would be like in the afterlife, and I liked the idea so much that I started a slice-of-life AU on my tumblr called Walpurgis Nights. That continued on from 2015 to pretty much a few months ago when it finished up, and I decided to create a rewrite/remastered version that would fix some problems and add new content to be posted on FFN and ao3, which is the story you're currently reading.
> 
> So if you're interested in either Resonance Days or want to read ahead on the original version of Walpurgis Nights, they're pretty easy to find with a little googling. Regardless, this version here should be considered the definitive version.
> 
> Anyway, I got some other stuff to focus on, so it might be a little while before I can come back to this story, but rest assured I intend to finish up this version as well.
> 
> Until next time, everyone!


	11. Together Forever, Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick note: So most of this story is a fairly low-stress slice-of-life, but this arc will be much gnarlier, more violent, and way more disturbing than the rest of the story, for reasons that will soon become obvious. Just a head's up.
> 
> Also, since this arc will consist of mostly prewritten material from the story's original version, it'll roll out weekly for the next month or so until the arc is done.

_No…_

_There's two of them! I need help over here! Please!_

_That's Sayaka. She changed into a witch. That's all witches are. They're us. It's all just a scam. This whole time, it was all a scam._

_Kyoko, I need help! The witches seem to be fusing. Kyoko…wait, no! Don't give in!_

_Hehehehe, it was all a lie. All a lie. Ha ha ha ha ha, we're just dupes!_

_Kyoko, don't! KYOKO!_

…

At first there was very little, just a confusing muddle of strangely familiar voices, flashes of confusing images, and names. They drifted through her head like fragments of a fading dream. In her semi-conscious state, she weakly tried to seize those fleeting pieces and put them together. They were trying to tell her something important, and if she just put them in the proper order she would know what it was.

Unfortunately, all of that was swiftly ejected from her mind when she realized that she was in unbelievable pain.

She awoke screaming, or at least she tried to, but the searing agony was so great that all she could manage was a desperate gasp. Red clouded her vision, driving away any semblance of rational thought and leaving her with nothing but mindless panic.

She tried to call for help, but the words were choked out in her throat. She tried to move, to flee to some place she could hide, but something was holding her in place, leaving her defenseless to the hot lances stabbing through her body. She slumped in defeat and sobbed in helplessness.

A trickle of awareness eventually cracked through the hazed of torment, drawing her attention to an important bit of information. As great as the pain was, it was focused on five specific points in her body, specifically her wrists, her feet, and the right side of her stomach. Forcing her eyes open, she narrowed her focus over to her right arm.

A strangled cry of shock and horror managed to escape her convulsing throat. Her arm was stretched out over a wooden beam, and a big, ugly nail of iron had been driven through her wrist, holding it in place.

She then looked to her left. The same had been done to her other arm.

The pieces started to come together in her mind. Gritting her teeth, she then looked down. It was still hard to see through the pain-induced fog, but she was able to confirm that her body was stretched across another beam of wood, with the plank holding her arms in place crossing it at a perpendicular angle. Furthermore, her feet were nailed together, one on top of the other. As for her side, what looked like a large spear with a triangular head had been driven through the flesh of her stomach, pinning her to the wood. She jerked back with a gasp as the terrible realization was driven into her mind as brutally as the nails had been driven into her body.

She was being _crucified!_ Her mind was overwhelmed with a flood of panicked bits of information. Crucifixion, one of the cruelest manners of execution devised by man. The victim was suspended on a wooden cross, their wrists and feet nailed in place. From there, they would spend days exposed to the elements, slowly going mad from pain, hunger, and thirst, until the pressure on their hearts grew too great and they died of internal hemorrhaging.

Why though? Who had done this to her? What had she done to deserve this? She couldn't remember her crime, she couldn't even remember who she was! And now she was going to die without ever knowing why.

_NO!_

Her eyes narrowed, and she drew forth every bit of strength she could gather together. Gritting her teeth, she focused again on her right arm and the piece of metal stabbing through it. She then pushed out.

Immediately the pain rose up in response, almost driving her back into unconsciousness. She cried out but kept pushing. She didn't expect results, but she was not going to die without fighting back.

To her surprise, her wrist started to move across the nail's length. It hit the blunt head, but instead of being stopped by that, the nail started to move. Hope renewed within her and she shoved out with all her strength, her grunt of exertion rising up to a scream of defiance.

The nail trembled but kept moving. Every second was a nightmare, every centimeter a fresh new hell, but she kept pushing and pushing and pushing.

Then her arm was free! The force swung it across her body, causing her body to jerk up around the spear and cut deeper, but such was her relief that she barely noticed. She hastily brought her wrist to her mouth and seized the nail's head in her teeth. With one determined grunt she yanked it free and spat it out.

That done, she collapsed back, draping her free arm over the beam for support. Just doing that had almost taken everything she had out of her, and now she wanted nothing than to give into the swirling darkness that danced along the edges of her vision.

However, she couldn't give up now. Her eyes opened again and looked down. Freedom was in her grasp, and now her fear was slowly being consumed by the white-hot ball of rage that was growing inside her.

She reached down with her free hand and gripped the pole of the spear and yanked. The pain was still immense, but lesser than freeing her arm had been. It came away after only three tugs and she tossed it away.

Red mist rose up in front of her eyes. Blinking, she shook her head and turned her attention to her left arm.

She almost grabbed it with her right hand to yank that loose, but then realized that if she did that, there would be nothing holding her in place, and she would fall forward to tear her still-nailed feet to pieces.

Well, if she did it once, then she could do it again. She inhaled as deeply as she could (which wasn't much), wrapped her free arm around the beam again, and pushed out with the other.

A moment later she was draping both arms around the crossbeam as another nail clattered on the ground.

Though she was still shivering with pain and exhaustion, she was smiling. A small chuckle slipped out from her mouth. Heh, okay. It was working. She was winning.

Her eyes reopened then. She narrowed her gaze down at her feet, zeroing in on the last nail. Sucking in through her teeth, she tightened her hold on the crossbeam, braced her back, and pushed out with both legs.

Apparently she was a lot stronger than her slight frame would suggest. The nail slid out easily. She quickly freed the beneath foot and let herself drop from the cross.

She fell to a cold stone floor. Lying on her side, she drew her foot up and seized the nail with both hand and yanked it out.

Now that she was fully free from the cross with no bits of metal piercing through her, she rolled onto her back and lay still. Panting with exhaustion, she looked up the length of the ugly wooden construction of death.

_That's right,_ she thought. _You almost got me, but you didn't. I'm free now, I'm…_

Then her eyes closed of their own accord as she finally gave herself to the darkness.

…

How long she slept she didn't know, but when her eyes opened again she was still in the same place, lying flat on her back with the cross still looming over her.

For a time she just lay there, slowly breathing in and out. For some reason the pain was completely gone, and now new sensations were being reported. She could feel the coldness of the stone beneath her back, arms, calves, and buttocks. The air in the room was uncomfortably cold, and she could see her breath misting above her.

Apparently she was naked, which all things considered was a minor inconvenience but still a problem. Of greater importance though was figuring out where she was, why she had been sentenced to die in such a horrific manner, and why she didn't hurt anymore. By all rights she ought to still be in agony from her wounds.

She let her head fall to her right, giving her a clear view of her arm. Then her brow furrowed in puzzlement. The skin of her wrist was whole and unblemished, with no sign of the nail wound or of any blood.

She then inspected her left side to find the same thing. With slow, cautious movements she lifted her right hand to run over the smooth, taut skin of her stomach. There was no evidence of where the spear had pierced her. She then lifted her legs one at a time and wiggled the toes on each. No holes. She was fine.

Was she dead? Had she succumbed to her wounds, bleeding out while she slept? Now _that_ would be some horrible irony, to fight so hard to save herself only to have it mean nothing.

She slowly sat up. Well, she didn't _feel_ dead. Her stomach ached a bit and her shoulders were a little sore, which was a pretty good indication of life. She then glanced around. No sign of her bloody, lifeless corpse. Okay, that was encouraging.

Though come to think of it, she didn't see any blood at all. Even if her wounds had mysteriously closed up, ought they have leaked a fair bit before that?

One of the nails was lying nearby. It was as ugly as she remembered, a crudely made spike of rough iron with a blunt head. She grimaced, remembering how it had felt to have it impaled through her flesh. She hesitated for a moment, and then reached out to prod it with her finger. It rolled a bit at her touch.

She then picked it up. It felt cool in her hand. Well, unless she had somehow taken it with her, she was pretty much confirmed as being alive. With a sigh, she tossed the nail aside and took her first good look at her surroundings.

Then her stomach clenched as her jaw fell open. Whatever it was that she was expecting, this wasn't it.

She was at the front of the sanctuary of a large cathedral, staring out at the rows and rows of black pews. And each and every seat was filled with pitch-black beings with red eyes and red smiles, all of them grinning at her. A strange, twisted red symbol was inscribed into their foreheads. And around each of their necks was draped a black noose, the ropes of which extended all the way up to the rafters.

Whimpering, she scooted back away from the crowd that had gathered to watch her execution. Her back then hit something made from wood. She slowly looked up to see the cross still looming over her. In her terrified state it almost looked alive. She felt like it was looking down at her in pitiless contempt, angry at having been robbed of its victim.

But then she caught sight of what was beyond the cross.

A huge stained-glass window covered the entire wall, depicting images that both confused her and filled her with dread. A mob of those black-bodied, red-eyed creatures dominated the right-hand corner, their arms uplifted in supplication. What appeared to be some kind of family stood across from them, a man and a woman and two young girls, all of them staring back at the horde. However, one of them girls was hanging back from the rest to lift up a spear over her head, ready to stab it into her unsuspecting father's back.

At the top of the glass mural hung the father's lifeless body from a length of rope. At either side of him hovered the still forms of the woman and one of the girls, both of them upside-down. And dominating the entire picture was a bizarre looking creature, one that looked mostly human and was dressed in an extravagant, colorful robe. However, instead of a head it had a giant lit candle, and at its breast at the center of the window it held the same symbol that was inscribed in the foreheads of the mob that filled the pews.

None of it made any sense whatsoever, and yet it something about it filled the girl's head with terror. She screamed and tried to flee, but then her foot caught on something round and metal and she fell.

As luck would have it, the arc of her fall ended up taking her down the stairs that led up to the podium. She tumbled all the way down toward the pews before ended up in a rather painful heap at the bottom.

Groaning, she held a hand to her throbbing temple. Then she opened her eyes to see a pair of black feet directly in front of her face.

Her fall had taken her right up to the first row of pews, with one of the leering creatures sitting right in front of her. However, now that she was seeing it up close, she saw that its feet seemed to be made from tightly woven black straw held together with black rope. Her gaze traveled higher, taking in the whole of the creature. The rest of it was made from straw as well. Furthermore, its eyes, mouth, and the symbol on its head were all painted on. As for the noose, it hung loosely around its neck, almost as if it were a marionette without a puppeteer.

A dummy? She straightened up, her fear giving way to curiosity. Sure enough, the whole thing was just a lifeless dummy made from straw, painted black with a crude red face.

Her eyes then swept over the rest of the pews. The entire congregation was made up of dummies, each and every one of them. Her brow furrowed. None of it made any sense. Why would anyone go through the trouble of crucifying someone in an elaborate cathedral in front of a fake crowd?

The back of her heel then touched something made out of metal. She looked down to see the spear that had pulled from her side. It was a pretty fancy one, with a large, triangular head painted with red lines, a segmented pole, and a round counterweight at the end, presumably to allow for swiping as well as stabbing.

She picked the spear up and turned it over her in her hands. A glance confirmed that yup, it was the same spear that the little girl held in the stained glass window. After a few moments of contemplation she glanced back at the dummy and poked it in the face with the spear. No reaction.

Mysteries on top of mysteries on top of mysteries and not a single answer to be found. Whatever it was that was going on, it was clear that she was in some deep shit, and weird deep shit at that. Furthermore, it was definitely time to go.

Gripping the spear tightly with both hands, she turned toward the back of the cathedral. She took her first step.

The sound of creaking knots drew her attention. The forest of black ropes that extended from the dummies' necks to the ceiling was being pulled up, the nooses tightening around their straw necks. Her back stiffened as the icy ball of fear returned. She stood frozen in place, watching as the entire congregation was lifted from the pews and drawn up into the air.

They stopped halfway up and just hung there like the swaying victims of a mass execution, their arms and legs swaying limply, their heads slumped in the nooses' grips. She wanted to tear her eyes away but found that she couldn't do anything but stand in place and stare with her mouth hanging open, the hands gripping the pole of the spear now white and trembling.

The world seemed deathly still, with no sound but the creaking of the ropes as they gently swayed back and forth and her own short, panicked breaths.

Then, as if on cue, each and every one of the hanging dummies slowly rotated around to stare directly at her.

Something snapped inside of her and she fled screaming, running through the rows and rows of pews with no thought of where she was going or what she would do when she got there, just the mindless need to _get out,_ to escape the unblinking eyes and leering smiles that followed her every step of the way.

A large double-door was at the end of the sanctuary. She hit it with her shoulder, knocking it open. She darted through it and slammed it shut.

Panting, she leaned back against the door, partially to hold it closed, but also because she needed the support. She slid down to the floor and slumped forward, legs stretched out in front of her.

In time her breathing slowed, but that brought the tears. Sniffling, she instinctively tried to stop them, to push the sobs she felt struggling to come up back down.

_Why?_

The question gave her pause. Why fight it? For some reason she felt that she should, but for the life of her she couldn't think of a reason why. She was alone, had just narrowly escaped the most horrible means of execution known to man, and had been scared out of her wits. So why the hell shouldn't she be allowed to cry?

When no answer presented itself, she stopped fighting. Now uninhibited, the sobs came crashing out, bowing her shoulders. She covered her face with her hands, weeping freely.

It felt…well, it hurt a bit, but it felt good, like it was the first time she had cried in a long time, despite desperately needing it. She let it build and build, releasing the anguish that she didn't even know she was carrying, pouring out her soul.

Again, it did hurt, like tearing away old scabs, like digging out a rotten infection, but it felt so cleansing. And when her eyes were drained of tears and her breathing had steadied, she felt much better. Exhausted, but also refreshed, ready to move on. Wiping her eyes, she finally looked up at her surroundings.

She was no longer in a church, or at least if she was it sure was a weird one. The room she now found herself in was perfectly round and made of white marble. The only thing of note was a towering marble sculpture in the center. Four carved images that were part statue and part relief image faced off in four directions, their backs fusing together.

The carvings were bizarre, depicting creatures that made no sense. The one that was facing the girl was of the same flame-headed, robed figure from the stained glass window, now sitting atop of a horse.

And in its hand was a spear identical to the one the girl was carrying.

She cast a dubious glance at her weapon. She still had no idea what she had even been doing on that cross with that spear stabbed into her side. She didn't know who had put her there or what she had done to deserve it. But to her, that stone carving looked a hell of a lot like an idol. And given the deeply religious feel of that chapel and the fact that she had been stabbed with the same spear that the flame-headed creature was holding, she was starting to wonder if that crucifixion had been part of some kind of ritual sacrifice instead of a criminal execution.

But if that was the case, where were the worshippers? Where was the priest? The pews had been filled with dummies, not people. Where was _anyone_ for that matter?

She slowly in and out, trying to get a handle on herself before she started panicking again. Right, right, right. She couldn't afford to lose her head. She had to focus on what was in front of her and deal with her problems one at a time. Hopefully then some answers would present themselves.

She got up and walked around the sculpture, studying the carvings. They were of other strange monsters, each one facing a door in the circular wall. To the left and the right of the robed candle thing were a pair of dainty, doll-like things, one eyeless with a wide skirt, a round bonnet, and what looked like a pair of ribbons for arms, one wrapped around the handle of a musket and the other holding a teacup. The other looked more clownish, with sleeves longer than its arms, which in turn were wrapped around a long staff topped with what looked like a wrapped piece of candy. Encircling around it was some kind of worm-caterpillar-clown thing, with a spotted body and a smiling, painted face.

Shivering, she then looked toward the carving that was back-to-back with the candle head. It was of some kind of mermaid knight, one wearing a full suit of armor, a high-collar cape, and had a large fish's tail instead of legs. Clutched in its hand was a cutlass.

She looked at each one of the carvings in turn, and then to the doors. The clown was facing what looked like the double doors of a hospital, only one was pink and the other blue. The one with the teacup and gun was facing an apartment door, albeit one with a car door handle of all things instead of a doorknob. And the mermaid knight was facing the swinging doors of some kind of theater, complete with a matinee display overhead, though it displayed music notes instead of the name of any particular show.

Frowning, she considered the problem ahead of her. Four stone creatures and four doors. Behind one had been her chapel, in which she had been crucified. Did that mean other people were likewise being tormented behind the other doors?

Well, there was only one way to find out. Choosing one completely at random, she walked over to the theater door. Casting a nervous looked at the armored mermaid, she pressed her ear to the door and listened.

The door was surprisingly thick, so she didn't hear much. But she did make out what sounded like some kind of symphony orchestra playing.

And then someone screamed shrilly. It sounded like a young girl.

That was enough for her. She shoved the door open with her shoulder and rushed in.


	12. Together Forever, Part 2

_Just take it easy, Sayaka! Don't try to move._

_It's…it's hopeless._

_Don't talk like that! You'll be okay!_

_What are you idiots doing? Can't you see that we need help here?_

_Sayaka's hurt!_

_What's the point in fighting? He's never going to want me._

_Sayaka, please. I need to go help. Just rest for now. I'll come back for you, I promise!_

_No point. Nothing worth fighting for._

_What are you talking about, Sayaka? There's lots that's worth fighting for._

_No, not anymore._

_Sayaka, what are you doing?_

_There's nothing left…nothing left…_

_Kyoko, Homura! Something's wrong with Sayaka! She's changing!_

… _of me._

…

Blue eyes snapped open, and her mouth opened to scream.

_PAIN! UNBELIEVABLE PAIN! AGONY, NOTHING BUT AGONY!_

She shrieked and writhed as spasms contorted her body. Her upper body was being tortured, with her hands feeling like they were being crushed while a flaming lance had been thrust through her chest.

"HELP!" she shrieked as she tried to run, but something was holding her down. Her hands were being restrained, held in place while being squeezed under immense pressure. She looked to her side. Sure enough, her hand was held in some kind of vice, one that was slowly pressing down on her palm and fingers. Furthermore, there was something wrong with her legs.

A fresh spasm rocked her body. Something waved back and forth in front of her face, something flat and metal. "HELP ME!" she screamed again. "PLEASE!"

What was going on? What was happening to her? Why was she being tortured, and who was responsible? Questions flitted back and forth through her mind, but only in short, fleeting bursts, each one burning in the inferno of pain before any could take root. And to add a helping of insanity on top, over it all her ears were being assaulted by incredibly loud orchestral music.

"ANYBODY!" she called out, though now she wasn't expecting a response. But what else could she do? "PLEASE, HELP!"

And then a miracle happened.

"Hang on!" someone called back, barely audible over the squeal of violins. "I got you!"

A figure moved in front of her sight and a pair of hands gripped the flat metal thing. The lance of pain stabbing through her chest suddenly flared up, and suddenly it was gone. She collapsed forward and started gasping.

The figure moved to her side. She couldn't see what they were doing, but the vice crushing her left hand started to jiggle. She heard something snap, and all of a sudden her hand was free. Still mangled and in agony, but the pressure was gone.

"The fuck did this, why would anyone…" she heard her mysterious rescuer mumble, but by then darkness was already edging onto her mind. Her right hand shook, and then it was free as well.

Finally released from her torture, she slumped forward, her twisted hands held to her burning chest. A pair of strong arms grabbed her before she could fall, and she was gently lowered to the ground.

How long she lay shivering in her rescuer's arms she could not say. Maybe she passed out at some point, she didn't know. However, in time she became aware that the stabbing pain in her chest and the throbbing anguish in her hands had faded, and surprisingly quickly at that. The music continued to play, but she could deal with that.

Blinking, she opened her eyes and looked up at the person in whose arms she was lying.

Her rescuer was a young girl about her age, one who had a slender frame and vibrant scarlet eyes. For some reason she was naked, which was weird but explainable. However, something else was immediately demanding attention.

"Hey," the girl said with a relieved smile, showing a pair of particularly sharp canines. "You're all right!"

The tortured girl relaxed a bit. She knew that face. It was someone she trusted and cared about, someone she knew would look after her and would look after in turn. Her friend had come to save her.

She opened her mouth to say the girl's name. "Keeeyyyyoooo…"

Then she stopped, her brow furrowing in confusion. Just like that the girl's name had disappeared from her mind like the scattered fragments of a dream.

But before she could question the gaps in her memory further, something else then caught her attention, and she went stiff.

"Hey," the girl said, frowning in concern. "You okay?"

"Your _hair_ is _on fire!"_ the tortured girl screamed. She jerked away from the other girl and tried to run, but as it turned out whatever it was that was wrong with her legs was still there, and she just flopped onto her stomach. Rolling onto her back, she scooted away on her elbows.

Meanwhile, startled at her sudden movement, the other girl had jerked back as well, and was now pressed back against some kind of short wall. Bewildered at her new companion's odd behavior, she just stared back at her, oblivious to the fact that the top of her head was still blazing away. "The hell?" she said.

"Your hair!" the tortured girl said again, thrusting her finger at the fiery girl. "It's on _fi-"_

Then she stopped. Her finger, along with the rest of the hand, was no longer crushed and mangled. In fact, it looked completely fine.

"Excuse me?" the fiery girl said.

Shaking her head, the tortured girl took a deep breath and said for the third time, "Your _hair._ Is. On _fire."_

The fiery girl blinked. Then her scarlet eyes rolled upward, as if that would allow her to see. She cautiously reached up with both hands. "Huh?" she said, reaching toward the blaze.

"Wait, stop!" the tortured girl said before the other burned her fingers off.

But instead of burning, her fingers just passed right into the flame. "What?" she said as she groped around in the blaze. She yanked her hands back and stared down at them as the embers drifted from her fingers.

"What the hell?" she said. She started clawing at the fire, trying to get it off of her head. "What the hell, what the hell, what the hell? _What is this?"_

"You seriously didn't notice?" said the tortured girl. "How can you not notice?"

The fiery girl shot her a look. "You're the one to talk. You're a fish!"

The tortured girl choked. "What?"

"You're a mermaid! Look down!"

The tortured girl stared at her for a time. Then, slowly, hesitantly, she lowered her head to stare down the length of her own body.

The first thing she saw was that she was, like the other girl, completely naked. In other circumstance that might have been a cause for concern, however the fact that from the waist down, her hips, legs, and feet had been replaced by a large fish's tail.

It was a very pretty tail, it must be admitted. The scales were the colors of flame and water, bright pinks and yellows clashing with cool blues and greens, with black in between. The fins were an especially striking display, with the colors flaring out like a rainbow. However, as attractive as it might be, that didn't change the fact that it was there was still a freaking fish's tail where her legs ought to be.

"What," the mermaid said flatly.

"You didn't know?" said the fiery girl.

"N-no, I…" The mermaid reached down to run a hand over the scales. They were cool and dry to the touch, and tingled as her fingers passed over. Yup, it was hers all right.

Letting both the hand and her head drop, she stared up at the ceiling and slowly breathed out. "Oh boy," she said.

A beat passed. And then the fiery girl said, "So…do you have any idea what the hell is going on? Because I don't have a clue."

Still staring upward, the mermaid shrugged. "Nope. No idea. I woke up and I was-"

Her newly restored hands twitched as a phantom pain shot through her fingers. Swallowing, she forced herself to finish. "-being tortured."

"Yeah. Me too."

The mermaid propped herself up on her elbows. The fiery girl had drawn up her legs to her chin and was leaning back against the low wall, arms draped over her knees and eyes staring vaguely upward. She looked completely lost.

Then other things came to her notice. By the fiery girl's feet lay a gleaming silver cutlass, its blade sharp and its hilt ornate. The mermaid stared at it for a time, wondering why it seemed so familiar.

Wait. Wait, wait, wait. That flat metal thing that had been impaled into her heart. That was it. She had been stabbed with that sword.

Her chest clenched up, and immediately put a hand over her breast, just to confirm that there was no longer a gaping wound. Nope. Just like her hands, her chest had healed right up.

Then she noticed something else. Next to the fiery girl's side was a red spear, one with a large, triangular head at one end and a round counterweight at the other. Presumably that was what she had used to destroy the vices.

Speaking of which, between the two and a little to the left was a very nice looking chair, one that was elegantly carved and seated with blue velvet. To either side was a round wooden table with a single leg each. And on top of both was the mangled remains of a pair of sadistic looking hand vices. The mermaid swallowed, the memory of the agony they had forced upon her still all too fresh.

The music was still playing, though the source was unseen. Presumably it was somewhere beyond that short wall.

"Um, hey," the mermaid said as she struggled to sit up. "Can you help me? I wanna see what's out there."

The fiery girl frowned. "You sure? It's, uh, kind of weird."

"So what else is new?" The mermaid held out her hands, beckoning. "C'mon. Help me out here."

Shrugging, the fiery girl got up and walked over to help. Sticking her arms under the mermaid's armpits, she lifted her up and brought her over to wall so she could look out.

As it turned out, the room that they were in was some kind of theater, with rows and rows of blue seats facing a stage. The two of them were in a private box smack dab center of the audience, giving them the best view in the house. Not that it mattered, because apparently this was a private show. Each and every one of the seats and all the other boxes were empty.

As for the show itself, true to the fiery girl's word, it was…weird. An all-string orchestra was performing, sawing away at their instruments. However, the musicians all seemed to be marionettes, with blank painted faces and shaggy grey wigs. They were dressed in some kind of cream-colored uniform, like the kind boys would wear at an upscale high-school.

The marionettes were all manipulated by strings leading up to the top of the stage, where they were operated by a troupe of puppeteers. Except…the mermaid frowned. Except that the puppeteers all seemed to be puppets themselves. They were made to look like young girls with long green hair and dressed in the female alternative to the uniforms that the musicians were wearing. Their arms moved stiffly back and forth, making the musicians play on, but what it was that was moving them the mermaid could not see.

And sitting on stage behind it all was a large wooden backdrop of a weird armored, caped, mermaid thing, one with outstretched arms and a sword in one hand.

Nothing about the bizarre puppet show made any sense, but the more the mermaid stared at it, the more unsettling it became. It was intended for her, as much a method of torture as the vices and the sword, that much was certain. But what it actually meant she could not say, save that it was as disturbing as it was confusing.

"Put me down," she said.

The fiery girl gently lowered her so that she was leaning against the box's wall. Then with a sigh, she sat down next to her.

"It was the same deal when I woke up," the fiery girl said. "Well, not exactly the same. I was being crucified in some psycho church with a bunch of suicidal dummies. But the general freak show aesthetic was the same. Whoever it is that brought us here, they really want to-" Then she cut herself off and looked at the mermaid in concern. "Um, hey. Are you all right?"

The mermaid miserably shook her head. Her throat had thickened up and the tears were already starting to flow. She bowed her head, her shoulders trembling as the sobs started to come out.

"Aw jeez," the fiery girl muttered. "Um, here." She put her arms around the mermaid's shoulder and gently brought her closer, holding onto her when she cried. "You're good. Don't worry, I had to do the same thing right after I got out of mine."

In time the tears stopping flowing and her body stopped trembling. Sniffing, the mermaid drew back. "Thanks," she muttered, wiping her eyes with the back of her wrist.

"Don't sweat it."

The mermaid leaned back against the wall again. "Just…what's happening to us?"

"Told'ja already. Don't have a clue. Hey, is your memory as blank as mine? 'Cause I've been wracking my brain to remember something, but nothing's popping up."

"The same," the mermaid admitted.

"Of course," the fiery girl muttered. "It wasn't enough to kidnap us, turn us into monsters, and torture us in some kind of freak show, but they gotta give us amnesia on top of it. Hey, we gotta get out of here." She started to stand, but then paused. "Um, hey. What about your name? Did they leave you that at least?"

The mermaid almost said no, but as soon as the question was introduced to her mind, the answer suddenly revealed itself, a set of strange syllables that she was sure that she had never heard before but somehow knew beyond a shadow of doubt meant _her._

"Uh," she said as she ran her fingers through her hair. "I…I do. It's, uh, it's…Oktavia? Um, Oktavia von Seckendorff."

"Jeez, that's a mouthful. Well, Oktavia. My name is, as far as I can tell, Ophelia."

"Ophelia," Oktavia said, rolling then name around on her tongue. "Well, that's a pretty name."

"Thanks. I think."

"Do you have a family name?"

Ophelia shook her head.

"Well, um. Okay. That…doesn't make any sense." Oktavia forced a sort of half smile. "But hey! What does?" She held out her hand. "Er, nice to meet you. Thanks for saving me."

"Charmed," Ophelia said, shaking her hand. "All right, pleasantries are over. Let's get the hell out of here."

"Agreed." Oktavia then looked down at her lap. "But, um, problem? How exactly do we do that?"

…

The circular room of marble monsters was unchanged, their stone visages still staring out at the four doors. Oktavia made a surprised noise upon seeing them.

"Yeah. Freaky, ain't they?" Ophelia said, looking up at the armored mermaid.

"What the heck are those things?" Oktavia said.

"Wish I knew," Ophelia said. She nodded toward the armored mermaid. "But that was painted into the back of that stage, remember?" She then looked toward the robed being with the flaming candle for a head. "And _that_ freak was in a stained glass window in my room."

Given Oktavia's lack of the necessary number of limbs required for walking, running, or any useful form of movement, getting her around really was a problem. Ophelia had wanted to keep her hands free, so she had suggested that Oktavia ride on her back, but the mermaid had vetoed anything that would take her face that close to the live fire Ophelia was carrying around on her head. Carrying her over or across the shoulders also didn't work out, so in the end the only thing they could do was have her taken out in a bridal carry, with Oktavia holding tight to their weapons. It worked, but was also pretty awkward for both of them, and Ophelia had made it clear that should they be attacked, the mermaid was going to get dropped pretty quickly.

Surprisingly, as inconvenient as the arrangement might be, carrying her proved to be much less of a burden than Ophelia anticipated. Either the mermaid was a lot lighter than she looked or Ophelia was a lot stronger. Still, it wasn't exactly comfortable for either of them.

There was a pause, and then Oktavia said, "Um, Ophelia? You did notice that they kinda-"

"I know, I know," Ophelia sighed. Both Oktavia and the armored creature were mermaids. And she apparently had most of her hair on fire like the candle thing. What that actually meant she didn't know, but it couldn't be anything good. "Just another stupid clue that doesn't make any goddamned sense."

"And your room was like mine?"

Ophelia swallowed. "Y-Yeah. I mean, different theme, same idea."

"Oh." Oktavia shifted around to get a better look at the other two. "So, the other two rooms, does that mean we'll find more people like us?"

"I don't know. Maybe. Worth checking out though."

"Oh." Oktavia slumped back into Ophelia's arms. "Um, okay."

Ophelia looked down at her in concern. "Uh, do you need to cry again?"

Oktavia let out a small laugh. "No. No, I….But hey, you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"About what?"

"About this place. You know, where we are and what happened to us?"

Ophelia swallowed. "I'd…rather not think of that now, thanks."

"Well, we're going to have to sooner or later."

"Then let's make it later. So, which one should we try first?"

Ophelia looked from one doll things to the other. Then she shrugged. "Well, one's as good as the other, right. Let me just set you down here…" She gently lowered Oktavia to the floor against the circular wall. "Okay, let's try this one." With that, she went over to the apartment door with the car door handle.

She opened it up and looked in. "Oh," she said. "Um, problem."

Oktavia scooted over to see.

The interior was…weird. Instead of a room, it was a diagonal tunnel, sloping downward. Its theme seemed based around tea parties and roads, with tea sets sitting on tables stuck in random places and road signs jutting out here and there and hanging from above.

But the worrying part was that the whole thing seemed to be made of hundreds, if not thousands of red and yellow ribbons, all tightly woven together. The tunnel swayed back and forth, suggesting that whatever it was that was holding it up wasn't exactly steady.

Oktavia swallowed. She did not relish the idea of being carried down that.

"Yeah, I know," Ophelia said. "I'd have to leave you behind."

"I don't want that."

"Understandable. Maybe we should try-"

Then they heard the sound of a car revving up, deep down inside. Tires squealed and then there was the sound of a crash.

And then a distinctively feminine voice cried out in pain. It did not last long.

Ophelia winced. "Damn it. Look, just stay here. I'll go help her."

Oktavia felt a rush of fear. "No, wait. Don't leave me-"

But Ophelia was already heading down the tunnel, spear in hand. "Just stay here, I'll be right back!"

"Ophelia!" Oktavia cried, but her new friend was already gone


	13. Together Forever, Part 3

Together Forever, Part 3

_That's them. That thing. It's them._

_Madoka! Kyoko is…um, the new witch is…it's melting into the big one! Just like Sayaka did!_

_Hang on, Homura! Just hang on! Mami, we need…Mami?_

_It's them. My sweet little kouhais. Those witches. I let them become witches._

_Mami, please focus! We need your help!_

_All this time. Witches. That's what they are. It happened to them. And it's going to happen to us. It'll happen to me, and it'll happen to Homura…_

_Mami, stop talking like that!_

… _and it'll happen to you. That's our fate. Become a witch or die._

_Mami? Sempai?_

_Why wait?_

_Sempai, please no! Not you too!_

_Become a witch. Or die._

…

When she woke up she found herself bound hand and foot; trapped at the bottom of a long, steeply sloping tunnel; staring up at the headlights of a car, its engine idling.

That in itself was weird enough, and in the haze of just waking up, with the last few remnants of that strange dream still swirling in her head, she stared up at the car and wondered if she was still dreaming.

Suddenly the car's engine roared. She jolted fully awake, raw terror driving away all grogginess. The car raced forward, its headlights bearing down on her like the eyes of a demon.

"Wait!" she started to say, but then the car slammed right into her midsection at full speed, while at the same time something thin and metal stabbed into her sternum. Her torso crumpled inward, and she slumped forward, the restraints on her arms the only thing preventing her lifeless face from falling over the hood.

Things got a little fuzzy after that. She didn't pass out, not completely, but the force of the impact had stunned her enough that all she could do was hang limply, her eyes as empty as her mind.

In her shocked state she was dimly aware when the car started to slowly withdraw. Something was hauling it back up the incline, something that groaned under its weight but held. Once it was gone she slumped down almost to her knees. She couldn't move, couldn't feel, couldn't think, and could barely breathe. Her entire lower half had been crushed like an aluminum can, while a gaping hole remained just below her breasts.

How long she hung in that state was impossible to tell, but in time awareness started to creep back, the cold, dark tendrils slowly unraveling from around her mind. She gasped, trying to fill her lungs, but something seemed to be blocking her throat, only allowing a miniscule amount of oxygen through. She tried to cough it out but found that she couldn't do that either.

_Why…why did…_

Tears welled up but she couldn't cry. Everything from her stomach down had gone completely numb. Had it been cut off? If so, how was she still alive? Was she even alive?

In time feeling started to crawl back into her lower half, meaning that it was at least it was still there. But it brought no relief. Instead, it just brought pain. Groaning, she stiffened against the wall, her fingers and toes curling tight. Her whole stomach had already been crushed, but now it felt like it. That whole area was a throbbing pit of agony, making her feel every centimeter of crushed flesh, making her all too aware of the burning hole where her chest had been punctured. She tried to cry, but all that she could manage where pitiful little whimpers.

She thought that she was going to die then, but she didn't. She hoped that she would pass out, but that too was denied her. So she did all that she could do: hang there and suffer.

All things considered, she expected to pain to just go on and on, but to her surprise a measure of relief was given to her. The pain seemed to have reached its climax and was now starting to ebb. The burning hole in her chest closed and disappeared. The throbbing in her stomach slowly lessened and lessened, and her breathing grew easier.

It took time, but eventually the pain died completely. Blinking, she straightened up and tried to look down and survey the situation. It was difficult with her restraints, and her breasts were annoyingly in the way, but from what she could tell she had somehow healed.

But…but how? How in the world was that even possible? You just couldn't completely heal from that kind of damage that quickly. It was completely-

Then the car roared again. She stiffened. "Wait!" she cried, but it slammed into her again.

Again the process repeated, the car withdrawing and leaving her a crumpled mess. Then she would be drowned in agony, only for it to recede and leave her whole again. And then the car hit her again. And again.

By the fourth time she was starting to get used to it.

As she hung in place waiting for the fifth time, she found herself wondering not about the why of it all, but the what. Specifically, what had she done to merit such cruel punishment? Whatever it was, it had to have been terrible.

Any second now. Her body was once again whole, which meant that she was moments away from hearing the engine roar and the tires squeal. She stared into the headlights and nervously licked her lips in anticipation.

Then something hit her, but it wasn't the car.

A dark apparition with a flaming head appeared, wielding two blades. It darted down the incline past the car and toward her. She screamed, certain that her torment had just been upgraded. The demon swung one of the blades at her body. She reflexively twisted away, her eyes squeezing shut in anticipation.

Then her left hand swung free.

She popped her eyes back open again. "Wha…who?"

"Hang on!" the demon said, lunging for her right. As she did, the car's engine roared its warning. The demon hastily slashed away the restraints on her right arm as well, but the car had already began to charge, and her legs were still bound in place.

"Shit!" The demon threw itself to the side, hauling her down as well. Stupefied, she fell onto her side. Mere moments later the car slammed right to where she had been suspended, its front bumper smashing right through where her stomach had been. The front tires bumped against her shins as the car jerked from the impact.

She lay in place, trembling as she stared at the murderous vehicle. Her legs were wedged in the small space between the bumper, tires, wall, and floor, having missed being crushed by a few meager centimeters.

As for the car, it just sat there, its engine idling. If it were at all enraged about being denied its prey it made no sign. Then it jerked, causing her to stiffen in alarm. But instead of attacking, it withdrew, hauled back by some kind of rope apparatus.

Even after the car had returned to its starting point she stayed where she was, too scared to move. Something inside of her told her to _get up,_ and to do it _now,_ but her body refused to move. All she really wanted to do was curl up in a corner somewhere and pray that it was all a dream.

Then she heard someone cough.

"Oof. Wow. That was close." Craning her head, she saw that the flaming demon struggling to sit up. "You okay?"

She blinked. Though the dark made it difficult to make out the other's features, the light from the fire framing her head gave her enough to see by. And truth be told, the other person didn't really look like a demon. Instead, she looked like a naked girl, one with slim, athletic features and who just so happened to have a live flame on her head instead of hair.

"Ah," the recently freed girl said. What else was there to say?

Sighing, the fiery girl got up and retrieved her sword from where it had fallen. The other girl cringed in reflex, but the fiery girl wasn't interested in hurting her.

"Yeah, I know," the fiery girl said as she knelt down next to the other girl's legs. "My head's on fire. Weird, huh? And yeah, I don't know why. Hold on, I almost got you free."

A moment later all of the restraints were gone, though the fallen girl still didn't have it within her to move. The fiery girl looked over her with a critical eye and frowned.

"Well, that's, uh, answers that, I guess."

"Huh?"

"Never mind. Hang on, let's get you out of the way." The fiery girl put her arms around the fallen girl's waist and hoisted her up. She hauled her well out of the car's path and set her back down against the wall.

"Well, that was…interesting," the fiery girl said as she sat down next to her. "Um, tell me that that car hasn't been hitting you over and over this whole time. Please."

The silence that followed was answer enough.

"Shit. The fuck is up with these sadistic bastards? Okay, look. We need to get out of here. My friend's waiting for us, and I don't like leaving her alone. So, can you stand, or…"

Could she? She honestly didn't know. She had so many questions and everything was moving so fast, but if this strange, nude, flammable savior was going to lead her out of here, then she could wait to ask them.

She looked down at her legs to see if she could move them. As she did so, she noticed that for some reason, a pair of yellow ribbons were draped across her thighs, each one hanging from either side of her. Furthermore, they were each knotted at the end, with the shredded remains of another ribbon peeking out from the end of the knot.

"Oh, uh," the fiery girl said. "You might wanna-"

Puzzled, she reached down to touch the ribbons, or at least that was the intention. However, her hand never appeared. Rather, the ribbon on her right lifted up, curved around, and prodded her leg.

"WHAT?!" she shrieked as she jerked back.

"Take it easy, take it easy!" the fiery girl said, holding her hands out in a placating manner. "I know it's weird, but-"

"My arms!" She leapt to her feet, something that might have given her immense relief a moment ago but now went entirely unnoticed due to the realization that:

A. Those ribbons were firmly attached to her shoulders.

B. Her actual arms were nowhere to be seen, and…

C. The ribbons were now writhing and flailing about like a pair of snakes.

"What's going on?" she cried. "What happened to me?"

"Chill, okay?" The fiery girl grabbed her by the shoulders to hold her still. "It's like this torch on my head! Everyone here has something wrong with their body, okay? We'll figure out why later, but for now I need you to stay calm and-"

The car's engine suddenly roared, startling them both. It leapt forward again, charging down the slope to crash into the wall.

The pair stared at the scene for a long moment. "Oh," said the fiery girl. "Ouch." Grimacing, she turned her gaze back to the unfortunate ribbon girl. "Hey, you gonna be okay?"

"I…" The ribbon girl raised both ribbons to stare at them again before letting them drop. "Fine," she said, her shoulders slumping. "Whatever. Let's just get out of here."

"Sounds good to me. You want some help with those knots?"

"Sure."

The fiery girl went to work untying the severed pieces of ribbon from what now passed for the ribbon girl's arms. Despite her arms now being made from fabric, the ribbon girl could still feel the touch of her slender fingers, as if those ribbons were made from flesh. It made her shiver.

"All right, there we go. Now let's…" Then the fiery girl frowned, though not at her companion. Rather, she was focused on the car. "Hey, wait a minute. What's that?"

It's didn't take long to figure out what she was talking about. Tied to the hood of the car with even more ribbons was a long, silver musket, its shape elegant and carved with floral designs. It protruded out over the headlights like a spear, its metal tip extending just beyond the rest of it.

_That's what stabbed me in the chest,_ the ribbon girl thought, her heart clenching up. Why her mysterious tormentor would use a gun instead of a blade for that purpose didn't make any sense, but the memory of it piercing her flesh was all too fresh.

The fiery girl cautiously walked over to it, sword in hand. She looked the gun over, and then sliced away at the ribbons, freeing it.

"Ha!" she said, holding it high. "This'll come in handy."

The ribbon girl cringed back. "M-Maybe you shouldn't touch it."

"Why not? All the rest of my weapons were being used the same way, and so far they haven't exploded or-"

The car groaned and laboriously trudged backward up the slope. The fiery girl stiffened, and then turned to watch as the two-ton vehicle was hauled further and further back until it came to a rattling stop.

The fiery girl inhaled sharply through her teeth. "But damn, these people are sick. Well, okay. You ready to get out of here?"

Swallowing, the ribbon girl nodded.

"Groovy. Okay, here. Catch."

Before the ribbon girl knew what was happening the fiery girl had tossed the gun at her. She reflexively caught it with both ribbons.

"Hold onto that for me, okay? I can only hold two of these things at a time."

The ribbon girl stared at the gracefully designed weapon in her grasp. The ribbons holding onto it started to tremble. "I…"

"Oh. Oh shit, that's a problem, isn't it? Okay, fine." The fiery girl took the musket from her. "Okay, you take the spear then. That okay?"

The ribbon girl thought for a moment. Then she slowly nodded. She could handle a spear.

The fiery girl handed her the weapon. Holding onto it was a little weird, as she kept trying to flex fingers that she didn't have around the handle. Finally she figured out how to wrap the her ribbons fully around the pole. She gingerly lifted it up and gave it a half-hearted swing. Well, she had never actually been hurt by this specific weapon, and she did feel a little better having it.

"Okay, cool," The fiery girl said. "Now follow me. And be careful. This slope is kinda steep."

Step by step they made their way upward. Now that she was not being methodically compacted over and over, the ribbon girl took the time to notice their surroundings. In keeping with the theme, none of it made any sense. The walls, ceiling, and floor all seemed to be made from red and yellow ribbons that had been woven together. Apparently it was tough enough to withstand the car's repeated blows, but the way that tunnel swayed was worrying.

What was stranger were all the tea sets. There were tables everywhere, from low tea tables to high legged tables to restaurant tables to dinner tables, and they were all set for tea. Some were rising from the floor while others stuck out of the walls. It was like something out of a demented children's book, and for some reason that sent chills down her spine.

To keep herself from glancing around at the strangeness she instead focused on her savior, who was carefully making her way upward just ahead of her, using the musket as a walking stick to climb. She made a point to look at her back, as peering into the fire hurt her eyes and it felt weird to stare at her bare butt.

The fiery girl had mentioned a friend. So, that meant that there were other people like them? Was this friend also some kind of freak? Had they also woken up to find themselves being tortured in a brutal, if fantastical, manner? There were so many questions running through her head, and she wondered if any of them were going to be answered.

"In case you're wondering, yes. Same thing happened to me," the fiery girl suddenly called back, as if she had read her mind. "Woke up and found out I was being crucified. Had to fight my way out on my own and found out myself in a weird, freaky room that made like zero sense."

"You were being _crucified?"_

"Yeah. And yes, it's just as bad as you think. But turns out that we got some kind of crazy healing power. After I got off that cross I took a nap and was fine."

The ribbon girl looked down at her perfectly intact torso. The feel of it being crushed inward and the hellish struggle just to breathe still lingered. "Do you…"

"Not a clue. Same thing happened to Oktavia too. She was getting all stabbed in the heart while her fingers were being crushed when I found her."

"Oktavia?"

"Yeah, that friend I told you about. I had to leave her behind because she's a fish."

The ribbon girl had to pause for a moment after hearing that. "I'm sorry, it sounded like you just said that your friend is a fish."

The fiery girl tilted her head to smirk down at her from over her shoulder. "You heard me. A mermaid, actually. That's her weird thing, like my hair and your arms."

"Oh."

"Yeah, and before you ask, we're just as lost as you are. Bet your memory's pretty much gone too, right?"

The ribbon girl halted then. She hadn't really given much thought to it, considering everything else that had been going on, but now that she was no longer being used to cushion that car's self-destructive rampages, she now had the time to collect herself and think back on the series of events that had led her to this place.

Unfortunately, there was nothing to find.

The ribbon girl felt a surge of panic. Her memory was gone, empty save for a few fleeting images that fled the moment she tried to seize ahold of them. It was blank, erased, nothing there, completely zilch.

Seeing the look on her face, the fiery girl smiled grimly and nodded. "Yeah, it's the same for us. Either they turned us into freaks or we were always freaks, but either way, they didn't want us to remember how or why." She pointed a finger at her temple, just below the flame line. "So we gotta deal with amnesia on top of everything. Figures, right?"

The ribbon girl couldn't fathom how flippant her new companion could be about everything. Didn't she understand just how terrible things were? Their memories were _gone!_ Everything about them was erased, their lives taken away!

Her legs were getting weak. She fumbled around until she touched a high-legged chair pushed up to one of the tea parties. She pulled it toward her and sat down.

A moment later she sprang back up again. No, she couldn't use the chair, it might be booby-trapped. Everything around them was dangerous, nothing could be trusted, nothing could be-

"Hey, hey, hey, get a grip, okay?" the fiery girl said. She grabbed the ribbon girl by the shoulders and held her steady. "C'mon, look at me now. Look at me. Now take a deep breath and let it out. Let's just get our asses out of this weird-ass tunnel before it collapses or something. Then you can have yourself a good cry or whatever you need, we all did. But just hold it together for a little longer, okay?"

The ribbon girl's vision blurred, but she managed to blink away the tears. The fiery girl was right. There was a time and place for everything. She could hold on a little longer.

"Okay," she whispered.

"There you go," the fiery girl said, giving her shoulder an encouraging pat. "And don't worry. Like I said, both me and Oktavia had our own little breakdowns, so you're in good company. Right now we're just trying to round up everyone else that might be trapped here and then we'll work on finding some answers."

"I see."

"Right. So, chin up! I know things are fucking terrible, confusing, and stupidly weird right now, but you're not alone in this."

That wasn't exactly encouraging, but the ribbon girl appreciated it. "Okay. Oh, ah, I didn't thank you before. You know, for saving me. So, thank you."

"No prob. Hey, I remembered that we haven't really been introduced. Name's Ophelia. You got one?"

The ribbon girl frowned. With her memory being gone, she didn't expect that she did. But wonder of wonders, now that she was concentrating on that specifically, one presented itself.

"I…think so," she said, her brow furrowing. "It's…Can…Can…Candeloro?"

"Candeloro, huh? Jeez, what's with us all having their weird, fancy names?" Ophelia shrugged. "Well, welcome to the club, Candeloro. Wish I could say that the worst of the weird is over, but if you ask me, it's only begun."


	14. Together Forever, Part 4

Oktavia's feelings over being left behind had not improved. If anything, she was driving herself nearly frantic with worry.

She was still seated at the base of the statues, staring through the open door to that strange, sloping world of ribbons and tea cups. Looking at it gave her the creeps, but it helped distract her from the statues, particularly the big one with the tail and the armor. The less she thought about _that_ the better.

Unfortunately, nothing could distract her from the other dark thoughts that were invading her mind.

Music was playing in her head, that eerie, almost violence symphony that had been performed by empty-eyed puppets as the soundtrack to her torture. She tried to block it out, to distract her mind with something else, anything else, but unfortunately that well was dry. In fact, if she listened as hard as she could, she was fairly certain that she could hear the music, still playing through the theater door. She pressed her hands over her hears and tried not to look at it, but even then she could feel its presence, both the door and the armored creature that faced it.

Her hands twitched. Ever since Ophelia had left, the knuckles had started to ache. She had tried ignoring it at first, telling herself that it was all in her head, but phantom pain or not, the louder the music in her head got, the more her hands hurt.

Whimpering, she focused her attention to the open door directly in front of her. As twisted and weird as the world beyond might be, at least it wasn't the one that was plaguing her mind. Maybe worrying about what might come up out of that place would help take her mind off of the place she herself had come out of.

 _Come on, Ophelia,_ she thought as her eyes darted back and forth between a U-Turn sign and a white ceramic teapot, all that she could see. _Hurry up, hurry up, hurry up-_

Then suddenly, a voice called out from down the slope. "Hey, Oktavia! You still there?"

It was Ophelia. Almost weeping from relief, Oktavia called back, "I-I am! Are you all right?"

"Just peachy! And guess what? I brought a friend!"

So she had found someone after all. That was good. Oktavia slowly breathed in and out to try to slow her heartrate. Then she straightened up to see.

Ophelia came trekking into view, looking none of the worse for the wear, thank God. And following her was someone who, true to form, looked to be in the same boat that they were.

It was yet another naked girl, this one looking to be maybe a couple of years older than them. She was a little shorter than Ophelia, with a round face; soft, yellow eyes; and golden hair that flowed down around her shoulders. She had a fairly curvy figure and definitely had more going on in the chest than either of them did. But none of that was nearly as attention grabbing as the fact that in place of arms she had a pair of honest-to-God ribbons. How _that_ worked, Oktavia had no idea, but she supposed that it wasn't any weirder than a fish-mammal hybrid or someone who managed to have a flaming torch for a head with no ill effects.

Interestingly enough, the ribbon girl was holding onto Ophelia's spear, both of her ribbons wound tightly around its pole and practically hugging it to her chest. As for Ophelia, she was holding a long, silver gun in one hand and Oktavia's sword in the other. Remembering how she had woken up to find that sword stabbed through her chest and how Ophelia had said that her spear had been thrust through her side, Oktavia wondered how someone could have been impaled on a gun. Maybe some freaky animatronic had shot her with it over and over or something.

The girl looked about as apprehensive as Oktavia had felt when first entering the rotunda. She saw the statues and froze in place, her grip on the spear tightening.

"Come on, it's okay," Ophelia said encouragingly. "They won't hurt you. Anyway, this is my friend Oktavia, the one I told you about. Oktavia, this is Candeloro. I found her getting used as a crash test dummy." As if to punctuate her point, from beneath her came that loud crashing sound.

"Hi!" Oktavia said, her voice rising too high and becoming a squeak.

"Hello," Candeloro said.

"All right, cool," Ophelia said as Candeloro stepped into the room. She kicked the door shut. "Enough of that place. Oktavia, anything happen while I was gone?"

"Nope!" Oktavia said, again too loudly. "Just, you know, had to fight off a full mental breakdown. I'm good!"

"What are those?" Candeloro said, staring at the statues.

"Don't know," Ophelia said, slowly shaking her head. "I have a few ideas, but like I said, we're waiting until we got everyone until we start asking questions."

"Everyone?"

Ophelia pointed to the opposite side of the room, where the strange doll and the clown caterpillar were entangled. "By my count, there is one more of us we gotta save. Then we can start planning our next move."

Candeloro looked less than enthusiastic. "Are…are you sure it's safe though? There's just the three of us. Who knows what's in there?"

"Look, I've been in three of these already, and except for the actual torturing, nothing's shown up that seems interested in hurting anyone." Ophelia paused, and amended, "Well, scare the shit out of and confuse, but not hurt. No guards, no traps, nothing like that's shown up.

"But-"

"Besides, odds are that there's one more girl in there getting tortured right now," Ophelia said, her voice taking on a harsher tone. "You really wanna just leave her in there just because you were a little nervous?"

Candeloro wilted at that. "No. I'm sorry. Of course we have to."

"Okay, but you're _not_ leaving me behind again!" Oktavia insisted. "I can't take it!"

Ophelia looked at her in concern. "Er, are you…okay?"

"No! I mean yes, there's nothing new wrong, but _please_ don't leave me alone in this place again!"

"Okay, okay," Ophelia said, holding up her palms. "Hint taken. Let's take a look at what we're in for first, then we can talk about how we're gonna work this."

Oktavia sucked in air through her clenched teeth, held it, and then slowly let it out. She gave a brief nod.

Ophelia's brow furrowed a bit, but she fortunately let it be. Holding her spear at the ready, she carefully made her way around the statues toward the final door, which was blue and pink, had a push panel instead of a handle, was ringed with black rubber, and had a rectangular window set in its upper half. She placed her back against the wall and leaned over to peer through the window.

"Huh," she said.

"What is it?" Candeloro asked.

"I think it's a…a hospital…bakery…thingamajig."

"What?"

Ophelia then kicked the door open and looked fully inside. "Okay, yeah. It's like a gingerbread house. Only a hospital. I think."

From her position Oktavia had no way of seeing and it was driving her nuts. "Come on, help me out here!" she whined, holding her arms out to Candeloro. "I want to see!"

The blonde girl seemed uncomfortable with the idea. "You want me…to pick you up?"

"Yes! Come on, we all got the same set. Give me some help here!"

Candeloro still looked unsure, but she knelt down and slipped her ribbons under Oktavia's rump and back. With a grunt she stood up.

Apparently those ribbons were a lot stronger than they looked, as Oktavia was picked up as easily as a child's doll.

"Is this okay?" Candeloro asked.

"I'm fine," Oktavia said, though truth be told, having Candeloro's ample chest press into her was sort of distracting, but she could deal.

Candeloro carried her over to the door that Ophelia was staring through. The fiery-headed girl stepped aside, giving them a clear view.

Like she had said, it seemed to be a hospital corridor, with open patient's rooms on either side, a nurse's station set halfway down on the right, and lines of gurneys against the walls going both ways, set in-between the doors. However, also like Ophelia had described, everything was made out of sweets. The walls were of pink frosting dotted with multicolored sprinkles, the tiles were of yellow wafer or dark chocolate chip, the gurneys were made from frosted gingerbread, and though it was too far to really make out, the nurse's station doubled as a bakery's counter, displaying a variety of baked treats, cakes and cookies and cupcakes.

And the smell! It was the smell of a candy shop mixed with a bakery's kitchen, cloying sweet. Every breath was thick with promises of moist chocolate cake and sugary cookies, of faces covered with crystalized fruit and frosting.

Oktavia's mouth started to water. Since arriving she had not eaten; none of them had. And while they had all had other things to worry about, this was serving as a hard reminder of that little problem.

"Wow," Ophelia said as she stared longingly. She ran a tongue over her lips. "Uh, you think maybe it's…safe?"

"Um, um," Candeloro said. She sighed. "Um, it's probably not."

"Well, I mean, you never know until you try."

"It might be poison."

"Maybe. Maybe. But, uh, seeing the sort of things we've survived so far, maybe we could survive that too."

And with that, Oktavia felt her appetite die. Right, nothing about this place could be trusted. "We'd better not," she said, albeit a little reluctantly. Everything just smelled so good. "It's probably a trap."

"Yeah, but…" Then Ophelia's shoulders slumped. "Okay, fine. It would be like them, wouldn't it?" She shook her head. "Okay, let's get this over with fast, before my stomach commits mutiny."

…

They moved forward as one, Ophelia in the lead, spear in one hand and Oktavia's sword in the other, the fire of her hair lighting the way. Her eyes darted back and forth, giving the open doors only the briefest of glances. Through each one it was the same: another hospital bed made from treats, in which sat a dummy wearing either a pink or a blue hospital gown, its face painted to resemble the clownish-doll thing, its arms outstretched to hold a plate containing a cake. The same applied to all of the gurneys, each one possessing a cake-holding dummy. It was very creepy, but also very tempting. Fortunately, the creepiness outweighed the temptation, preventing her from reaching over and grabbing a handful.

Candeloro and Oktavia followed closely behind, with Oktavia riding on Candeloro's back, arms thrown loosely around her neck while the older girl held onto the mermaid's tail with her ribbons. They had tried continuing the bridal carry, but it had just gotten too awkward. Granted, this wasn't much of an improvement, but they made do with what they had.

It had taken some coaxing, but Candeloro had finally been persuaded to take along the silver musket. She heavily disliked the feel of it, especially with the memory of how its barrel had been stabbed into her chest time and time again, but now was not the time to throw away any possible advantage. She just hoped that the damn thing was actually loaded.

"Jeez, would you look at that?" Oktavia said, craning her neck to peer at their surroundings. "It's like something out of, I don't know, a circus or something."

"Mmmm," Candeloro said.

"A festival, or some kind of crazy amusement park. Like some idiot thought that making a hospital attraction was a good idea."

"Ah."

"Hey kids, ever wanted to visit a hospital made out candy? Well, now you can! Why a hospital? Because why not a hospital?" Oktavia giggled loudly.

Candeloro paused. "Stop talking, please. You're too loud."

"Oh. My bad."

A few moments went by, and then Candeloro said, "I'm sorry, that was rude of me."

"It's cool."

"It's just I am very…" Candeloro swallowed. _"Very_ scared right now."

"Me too."

"Hey, it's great that you two have gotten all chummy," Ophelia called back over her shoulder. "But how about you keep the noise down, okay?"

"I thought you said there wasn't anything to be worried about?" Oktavia said.

"As far as we know." They were now coming up on the double doors. "But why take the risk? Wouldn't surprise me if they decided to pull a-"

Then a shrill scream sounded from beyond the doors, and the girl's voice cried wordlessly. It sounded muffled, like she was speaking through a gag, but the fear and pain were evident.

Everyone stiffened for a moment, and then Ophelia's eyes narrowed. She rushed forward and kicked the door open.

Beyond was a surgical observation room, a square hallway encircling inward leaning windows. Staring down through the windows were even more dummies, all of them with painted clownish faces and wearing pink or blue doctor's scrubs. However, rather than being done up to look like that doll, these were made to resemble that caterpillar monster.

Beyond the windows was a surgical observation room, or at least there ought to be. There didn't seem to be a surgery table, nor were there any tables of sharp instruments, no IV drips, no beeping monitors, nothing of the sort. If the walls and floor were made of pasty, then it was some kind of jet-black variety.

There was, however, another girl, this one tall and willowy, with marble-white skin and short pink hair, and she was very much in peril.

There was a long, metal pole extending from one wall to the other, situated a little bit off the ground. And the girl was bound to the pole with golden wires at her ankles, around her waist, and by her wrists, which were bound behind her back just over her hips. There was another pole, this one a little more than a meter-and-a-half long, that was stuck crosswise between the main pole and her elbows, almost a crucifix in of itself.

Some kind of brace had been forced into her mouth, keeping it open. And stretching from a hole in the ceiling all the wall to her mouth was a clear plastic chute.

And rolling down that chute was a never-stopping avalanche of treats.

Pieces of cake, chunks of chocolate, donuts, sugary candies, cookies, slices muffins, cupcakes, and many, many other sweet confections tumbled down the chute into the girl's mouth, and it was clear that she didn't care for it one bit. She was bucking, straining at her bonds, trying to twist away as more and more fell into her mouth. What went in was immediately spat up, but more would replace them. The girl gurgled and choked, and she had vomit crusting around her cheeks, but couldn't stop them.

"Oh, that is gross," Oktavia whispered.

"That poor girl," Candeloro added.

"Yup," Ophelia said, readying her spear. "Let's get her out of there before-"

Suddenly the torturous tumbling treats just…stopped. The last few fell into the mess in the girl's mouth, and the chute began to lift up and away from her back toward the ceiling. The brace in her mouth remained, and she immediately began throwing up all over herself, trying to get the sugary mass over of her mouth.

And then there was a loud hum, and the pole she was tied to began to rise.

"Huh," Ophelia said, straightening. "Well, at least she's being brought right to-"

The pole stopped right beneath the window.

And then the entire observation room erupted into flames.

The three girls cried out in surprise and flinched back. When they looked back, the observation room was now a blazing inferno, a huge firepit like a doorway straight to Hell. It filled the observation corridor with dancing reds and yellows, while the windows seemed to shimmer with the heat.

And stuck right there in it was the fourth girl.

The pole was rotating slowly, exposing every bit of her to the heat. Enough of her mouth had been cleared, letting her scream. And scream she did, her cries being broadcasted over speakers set high in the corners of the room.

 _A cooking spit,_ Ophelia thought as her heart started beating faster. _They're cooking her alive, like a piece of meat. First they force-fed her to fatten her up, then they did this. Probably over and over. This whole time we were here, she's been-_

"Holy cra-" Oktavia started to say, but about that moment Candeloro's ribbons instinctively went to her mouth as she gasped in shock, causing Oktavia to suddenly drop to the floor with a startled yelp.

Ophelia barely noticed. Teeth bared, she charged right at the window, swiping the dummies aside with the pole of her spear.

"Ophelia, wait!" Candeloro called. "It's too hot, you won't be able to-"

Ophelia smashed the counterweight on her spear into the glass. The window was tough, but cracks still spiderwebbed out from the impact point. Another thrust and it shattered.

The heat hit her like a solid wave. She flinched in anticipation of the pain and readied her will to fight through it like she had the nails.

It never came.

Confused, she opened her eyes. The heat was there, yes. And it was incredibly strong, definitely. She could feel it flowing over her skin, could see it shimmering in front of her eyes. But for some reason it wasn't bothering her. There was no pain at all.

"Ophelia!" Oktavia called. Ignoring her, Ophelia moved in closer to the smashed window. She hesitated for a moment, and then stuck her arm into the room.

"Ophelia, don't!"

Nothing. Well, not nothing. Again, she felt the heat sure enough, but it didn't hurt. In fact, it felt kind of comfortable.

Furthermore, while the heat was rolling off of her in waves, she didn't feel fatigued. Her energy wasn't being sapped away like she had expected. If anything, it was pumping her up.

Almost in a trance, she then lifted her hand to the flame on her head. She passed her fingers through the tongues of fires a few times before letting her arm drop.

She was fireproof.

Hot _damn,_ she was fucking fireproof!

The girl's agonized cries redoubled. She thrashed her head back and forth, trying to free herself. Her butt was toward the party, so she couldn't see them, but presumably she had heard the window shatter.

Snapping out of her reverie, Ophelia leaned in through the window and looked down and where the turning spit joined the wall. She moved in her spear, made a few mental calculations, and slashed.

The spear parted through the steel like a hot knife through butter, that was the good news. The bad news that that as soon as the connection was severed, the spit started to slip down, tilting into the inferno below.

Without thinking Ophelia reached down to grab it and hold it in place. Generally, this would be a very stupid move, firstly because the spit was so hot that it would literally slough her flesh off, and secondly, considering how long the pole was and with the weight and leverage against her, she couldn't hope to hold it in place for long.

However, her immunity to heat remained, and the touch of the burning pole didn't hurt one bit. Secondly, the strength that had allowed her to force the nails off the cross had not deserted her, and she was able to hold the pole in place with one hand.

She grinned. Cool!

Then her smile disappeared. As awesome as that might be, she now had a problem, mainly that since the pole was still attached to the other end, she had no way of actually rescuing the girl without letting go. And if she did that, she risk having the girl slip down into the fire.

Crap, crap, crap, what now? How was she going to pull this off? The poor girl was being barbequed right before her eyes, and she could do nothing but watch it happen.

Then she heard Oktavia call out, "Wait, where are you going?"

Ophelia glanced to her side. To her surprise, Candeloro was rushing through the corridor to the other side, both sword and gun in hand. Ophelia watched her through the windows as she made her way all the way around the room.

The roasting girl noticed her. She made a strangled-sounding cry of surprise, followed by what could only be a desperate plea for help.

As Ophelia watched, Candeloro peered through the window first at where Ophelia was stuck holding the pole in place, and then down at where the roasting girl was suffering. She grimaced, and then drove the butt of the musket into the glass.

Unfortunately, she was not uniquely suited to withstand heat like Ophelia was, and as soon as the window shattered she lurched back with a cry. "Candeloro?" Ophelia called. "What are you doing?"

Through the shattered window, she saw Candeloro stand up. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and lunged forward.

The sword swiped down, slicing right through the pole.

Candeloro fell back with a cry of pain, but she had done it. The pole started to dip, and the roasting girl screamed, this time in terror.

However, Ophelia had already made her move. As soon as the pole was free, she yanked it up. The girl started to slide as feared, so she braced both hands under it, stuck it under her armpit, and pulled up and in.

Her strength was certainly impressive, but the angle was completely against her, and the pole continued to tilt. Desperate, Ophelia hauled it in faster, but the girl was still slipping.

Suddenly the pole started to right itself, as if a new pair of hands had joined her. Looking back, Ophelia saw that Oktavia had somehow pulled the scrubs off of a couple of dummies, wrapped them together, and thrown them over the pole where it was passing over her head. She was yanking down as hard as she could, and though her makeshift rope was starting to sizzle, it was holding.

Invigorated by this, Ophelia managed to bring the pole up so that the girl was no longer slipping. Then she hauled it in, meter by meter, until at last the girl's body finally reached the window. Even before she did, the overpowering stench of burning flesh filled the room, turning Ophelia's stomach and driving away her appetite. It was well that she had eaten nothing, because it would have definitely come up again then.

Holding her breath, she ignored her squirming stomach and kept pulling. The pole stuck through her elbows banged against the sides of the window, stopping her from going further. Gritting her teeth, Ophelia wiggled the cooking spit and pushed it to the right until she managed to make it fit.

Bringing the girl in, Ophelia snatched up her spear from where it had dropped and slashed away the girl's bonds. She dropped to the floor and lay there, her whole body shivering, the polka-dot pole rattling to the floor next to her. That done, Ophelia then grabbed the brace in her mouth with one hand, grabbed her by the jaw with the other, and forced it out from between her teeth. It came free, and she let out a gasping moan before collapsing.

Her time being roasted had not been good for her. Her body was bright red, her hair crisped black and falling out in clumps. Hideous blisters covered her back and wherever the metal pole had touched, and her lips and the inside of her mouth were all but destroyed thanks to the brace that had been in her mouth. But she was alive. It didn't make sense, but she was alive.

Sighing, Ophelia sat down next to her. She supposed that she should feel victorious, but all she felt was tired. Her eyes drifted to the smaller pole, the one she had yanked out of the poor girl's mouth.

Its shaft was black with pink polka-dots, like the body of the clown caterpillar. At its head was a pink gem with a swirl design and tiny wings stuck to either side, making it look like a wrapped piece of candy. Ophelia's brow furrowed. This was the new girl's weapon, that much was certain. But it was a weird one.

Candeloro came limping over to them, the tips of her ribbons wrinkled from the heat. "Hey," Ophelia said with a weary smile. "Good job, hero. You okay?"

"I'll be fine," Candeloro said. "How is she?"

"Alive, believe it or not." Ophelia craned her neck to look at Oktavia, who had flopped onto her stomach and was now crawling toward them on her elbows. "And same goes for you. Nice thinking with the rope idea."

"Hey, you did the hard part," Oktavia said. "But can we please get out of here?"

"Yup." Ophelia grunted as she stood back up. She took a deep breath, only to regret it when the smell sent her gagging. Trying not to breath through her nose, she knelt down and gently picked the burnt girl up. The poor girl inhaled sharply at the touch, but that was it.

"Come on, let's get the hell out of here," Ophelia said. She kicked the doors open and left the room of dummies and fire behind. Soon after Candeloro followed, Oktavia riding on her back.

…

_Wait, you're telling me that a wish could have cured her? I could have saved her?_

_Why didn't you tell me? Why did you let me waste my wish like that?_

_No! Don't give me that crap! You could've said something! You could've told me, but you didn't! Get out of here!_

_Oh God, what have done? I had one chance, and I wasted it. I should've known better. Why was I so stupid? It's all my fault, it's all my…_

…

Full consciousness was slow to return, and for a moment she almost didn't notice that she had woken up. After all, there was no pain.

The first time she had woken up, she had been in agony, strapped to a metal pole and force-fed pastries and candies until she felt like she would either choke to death or burst.

And then the force-feeding had stopped, but there was no relief. Because that was when the pole had lifted, the fire had come, and she was slowly roasted over a hellish inferno while shadowy figures stared at her through windows.

She had passed out from the pain, surrendering to merciful oblivion, only to wake up alive and whole with the fire gone, the chute back in her mouth, and the first of the cookies already falling toward her.

How long she had repeated that cycle she had no idea. She just remembered screaming for help when she could, praying that it would before she died, and when it didn't she started praying for death, anything to stop the pain. But that too had been denied her. For some reason her body had refused to die, with even her brief moments of passing out being temporary, leaving her in perpetual torment.

And then things got a little weird in her memory. She remembered _someone_ breaking the glass, remembered the pole being severed and tilting into the fire. She remembered the sheer terror as she had started to slip down, her flesh burning away as it slid across that superhot metal, the hungry flames coming closer and closer.

She didn't remember much after that.

But now the heat was gone, and there was no more pain. As her awareness returned she became aware of the cool air on her skin, almost too cold in fact. The air she breathed was no longer hot and choking, but almost icy.

 _I died,_ she thought woozily. _The fire swallowed me, and now I'm buried in the ground. That's why it's so cold. It's over, thank God._

And then:

"Hey, I think she's coming around."

She blinked her eyes. Wait, she still had eyes. Everything was all blurry and the light almost painfully bright, but she could see. Furthermore, she wasn't staring at the interior of a grave or even a burial urn, but black-and-white checkered linoleum.

"Anyone else think it's a little freaky how fast her hair grew back?"

"Hush, Oktavia. She can hear you."

"I'm not insulting her, I'm just saying that it's weird."

Still lying on her side, she reached up with one trembling hand as if to conform that she still had hands. She did, and though her sight was still unfocused she could tell that the skin was whole and healthy, albeit _extremely_ pale. That made her frown. Was she some kind of albino?

She then reached up to touch her head. Sure enough, she felt normal, healthy hair, just long enough to brush her shoulders. She then reached over her shoulder to touch her back, where her skin had practically melted into the pole.

Nothing. No burns, no blisters. Her back felt fine.

That should have been a relief, but instead it just scared her more.

"You okay there, champ?"

Swallowing, she pushed herself up on her palms and sat up. Wincing, she blinked and rubbed her eyes until the shadows around her solidified into clear shapes.

She was in a round room, one dominated by a weird marble sculpture of four bizarre looking monsters fused together at their backs, each one looking out in a different direction, while a fifth monster rose up where they were joined together. Set in the wall closest to her was what looked like a hospital door.

All of that was weird enough, but her attention was instantly grabbed by those in the room with her.

There were three young girls, all looking to be around middle or high school age, and all of them completely naked. That was…disconcerting enough, but even that was secondary to her concerns as the fact that they were all monsters.

The tallest was a skinny girl with bright scarlet eyes whose head was somehow on fire, an open flame burning where her hair ought to be and yet didn't seem to be hurting her. The other was a curvy blonde with heavy-lidded golden eyes who had a pair of yellow ribbons for arms. And the third was a perky short-haired blunette with bright blue eyes who just so happened to also be an honest-to-God mermaid, her entire lower half consisting of a large, multi-colored fish's tail.

The fiery girl must have seen the look in her eyes, as she immediately held up her hands and said, "Okay, just calm down. I know it's weird, but-"

The burnt girl screamed. She screamed and screamed while hastily scrambling backward away from the trio until her back hit the wall. Pressing back as far as she could go with her hands splayed out against the wall to either side, she wildly looked around with wide, terrified eyes.

"Get away from me!" she cried.

"Oof," the mermaid winced. "She's got it bad."

"Well, it is a hard thing to process all at once," said the ribbon girl.

"Okay, okay, just chill," said the fiery girl. "Calm down, all right? We're not going to hurt you."

The burnt girl wasn't interested in their lies. She glanced to her right to where the hospital door was.

"Yeah, you don't want to go in there," the fiery girl said. "That's where-"

The burnt girl bolted for the door on all fours. Knocking it open with her shoulder, she found herself in a hallway of brightly colored confections and sterile hospital trappings.

"What?" she said as she looked around. "What is this? Where am I?"

She staggered to her feet and took off at a run. Across from her was another door. Zeroing in on that, she ran as fast as she could, passing past both pastries and gurneys alike to ram her way through.

The heat hit her like a solid wall. There, right in front of her, was a row of windows, one of them broken. And through that window she saw the same horrific inferno that she had been trapped in.

Her jaw dropped out. "No," she said as she turned away. "No, no, no, no, NO!"

She fled back into the hallway, desperate to put as much distance between her and fire as possible. However, in fleeing that flame, she ended up bumping right into another. The fiery girl was there, and the burnt girl ended up running into her. The burnt girl screamed and tried to attack her with her fists.

"Take it easy!" the fiery girl said, grabbing her by the wrists. "Just calm down, nobody's going to hurt you!"

"Liar!" the burnt girl cried as she struggled against the other's grip. "You're lying! You just want to hurt me, to kill me! Why? Who are you? What did I ever do to you? Why?"

The ribbon girl arrived and wrapped said ribbons around the burnt girl's shoulders, helping keep her still. The burnt girl try to keep fighting, but they were too strong.

Finally her strength left her completely and she sank to her knees, sobbing. The other two knelt down with her, still holding her in place but gently, letting her cry.

"Please," she wept. "Tell me what's going on. What happened to me?"


	15. Together Forever, Part 5

Explaining things to the burnt girl was…difficult. She agreed to go back to the statue room with them, and from there sat sullenly in place while Ophelia, Oktavia, and Candeloro each relayed their experiences to her. Judging by the look on her face, she was still distrustful of them and was having a hard time swallowing the fantastical story they were telling her, but at least she wasn't calling them liars anymore. All the evidence staring into her face probably made that difficult.

"…and from there, we brought you into here and waited for you to wake up," Ophelia finished. "Which you eventually did. After that, well, you know the rest."

The burnt girl slowly breathed out. "And I was healed."

"Yup."

"It was pretty neat to watch, actually," Oktavia chimed in. "All your burns just went away and your skin turned back to normal. The hair growing back was the weirdest though. Like, after your skin got better it just started slithering out of your head like-"

"Hey, swordfish," Ophelia snapped. "Chill out. You're freaking her out."

"Oops," Oktavia said, finally noticing the horrified look on the burnt girl's face. "Sorry."

The burnt girl's hands had started to shake. She clasped them tightly together and held them to her chest. Closing her eyes, she slowly breathed in deep through her nose, held it, and let it out threw her mouth. In and out, in and out, until she had retaken control.

When she had calmed down again, she opened her eyes. "Okay," she said. "Okay. I'm good."

"But you do believe us now, right?" Oktavia said. "That we want to help you, not hurt you. We're all in this together, after all."

The burnt girl swallowed noisily, but she nodded. "Yes," she said. "I believe you."

"Great!" Oktavia grinned. "Welcome to the team."

"One thing though," said the burnt girl, her eyes flitting back and forth between the three of them. "Those…changes you guys have…"

"Told you," Ophelia said. "We don't know why or how. They just are."

"Okay. But you said that you're the same as me. Does that mean that I also…"

Ophelia had anticipated this. She picked up a large piece of glass she had recovered from the observation room and passed it to the burnt girl. "Careful," she said. "The edges are sharp."

The burnt girl held the glass out in front of her, trying to angle it to make her reflection as clear as possible. She frowned as she saw what the rest of them did: a tall girl, one at least half a head taller than Ophelia, with a slender, athletic build; bright blue eyes; and shoulder-length pink hair. All of those were readily apparent, though the lack of color in her skin was sort of eye-catching, though she knew that already.

"I, uh…" The burnt girl carefully turned the glass around in her hands. "Well, I've being _bleached_ or something, but is there anything else?"

"Look…down," Ophelia said. "And behind."

The burnt girl glanced at her. Then, after moment's hesitation, she did as instructed.

After a long moment she carefully put the glass down and then turned to look at Ophelia with haunted eyes.

"I have a tail," she said.

That she did indeed, one that hung from just above her buttocks almost all the way to her ankles. It was slim and black and splattered with red polka dots.

"Yup," Ophelia said with a nod.

"Count your blessings," Oktavia grumbled. "At least you still have legs."

The burnt girl reached behind her to wrap her fingers around her tail. She pulled it around and stared down at it. After several seconds of consideration, her grip on it tightened, and Ophelia was suddenly worried that she was going to try to tear it off.

Instead, she just sank back down with a sigh and leaned back against the wall. "Well," she said, her voice hollow. "We're a merry band of freaks. All for one and one for all."

Okay, Ophelia could work with that. "Looks to be that way," she said. "By the by, we never got around to proper introductions. I'm Ophelia, the blonde's Candeloro, and the mouthy mermaid's Oktavia. What's yours?"

The burnt girl's nose wrinkled. She opened her mouth, closed it again, and then said, "Charlotte?"

"Charlotte? Hey, that works for me. No family name though?"

"No."

Ophelia turned to Oktavia. "Hey, fish. How come you're the only one with a family name?"

"How the heck would I know?"

Candeloro cleared her throat. "Well, now that we've saved everyone, maybe we should start talking about our next move."

"It doesn't matter," Charlotte muttered.

Everyone turned to her. "What do you mean?" Candeloro asked.

"It doesn't matter what we do," Charlotte repeated. She hugged her legs closer. "It doesn't matter where we go. I mean, you've figured it out, right? Where we are?"

Ophelia opened her mouth to protest, but then closed it again. She exchanged uneasy looks with the other three. Taking a deep breath, she said, "Look, we don't know for certain-"

"We're dead," Charlotte said. "That's why we can't die. It's because we're already dead. Dead and in Hell." She let out a manic sounding giggle. "Don't lie, you were all thinking the same thing."

"That's not true! We might be-"

"Ophelia, I think she's right," Candeloro said softly. "How else would you explain… _any_ of this?"

Ophelia gritted her teeth. The last thing she wanted to do was to admit that they were all suffering damnation in Hell, as that would destroy any and all hope of freedom, and they had fought too hard and come too far to just surrender now. But in the face of so much evidence, she was finding it hard to argue. "Well… _maybe,"_ she allowed. "But until we come across a big, glowing 'Welcome to Hell!' sign, I'm gonna keep fighting for a way out. Anyone that wants to come with is more than welcome."

"I'm in," Oktavia said without hesitation.

"And me," Candeloro said. "I don't feel like giving up just yet."

"Good to hear. And what about you, Charlotte?" Ophelia said, turning back to the newest member of their party. "Are you in or out?"

Charlotte shivered, but she eventually nodded.

"Right then. Well, uh, I guess this is yours."

Ophelia picked up Charlotte's pole (well, no. It wasn't really a pole. More of a staff) and handed it to her. Charlotte looked at it in confusion.

"What's this?" she said.

"Your weapon," Ophelia said. She held up her spear. "We all had one when we woke up. This one's yours."

"My what?"

"Weapon," Ophelia repeated. She wasn't sure how much of her time on the cooking spit Charlotte remembered, but if she wasn't going to ask then Ophelia wasn't going to tell her. "Hang on to it. You never know when you'll meet someone in need of a good bashing."

Charlotte still looked completely bewildered. She glanced at Ophelia's spear, then over to Oktavia's cutlass, and finally her eyes settled on Candeloro's musket. "Okay? Um, how come you guys get spears, swords, and guns, while I'm stuck with a silly looking stick?"

"I don't know, bad luck?" Ophelia said with a shrug. "Better than nothing though."

"Well, that's all well and good," Oktavia said. "But still, where the heck do we go next? The only doors are the ones leading to our torture rooms."

Ophelia hesitated. Going back into one of those was not a possibility she relished, but they weren't left with a great many options. "Well, it's not like we really explored those very thoroughly," she said. "So maybe-"

"I'm not going back," Charlotte said hollowly. "No way."

"Okay, but-"

"Me neither," Candeloro said with a shiver. "I'm sorry, Ophelia. But I can't go back into that place."

"Yeah, not exactly down with going back into that place," Oktavia said as she rubbed her hands.

"Look, there's _four_ of us," Ophelia snapped. "No one says that we gotta go back into our own personal torture chamber."

"Wait, you mean split up?" Oktavia said, her face paling. "No!"

"Yeah, definitely no," Charlotte said with a dry laugh. "No way am I going anywhere alone."

Ophelia threw her hands up. "All right! Well, if you're just going to shoot down all my ideas, then you guys think of something!"

"What about yours?" Charlotte said.

"Huh?"

"Look, I'm not trying to start a fight here," Charlotte said, holding up her palms. "You pretty much saved my ass back there, so I owe you big. But if you think that exploring those torture chambers is our best bet, then shouldn't we start with yours? You know, since it was your idea?"

Ophelia sighed. "Okay, fine! Let's do that then! Mine's as good as any, so let's go do it!"

She marched over to the oaken church doors that sat across from the candle-headed horror, mumbling to herself the whole way. Planting herself in front of them, she reached out to grab the handle.

Her hand stopped halfway.

After a few seconds, Charlotte said, "Well?"

Ophelia stared at the doors, then her gaze dropped down to her hand, focusing on the center of its back.

_A long, ugly iron nail was thrust through her wrist, trapping it against the rough wood of the cross. She could feel it passing through her flesh, cold iron over red hot pain._

Her hand started to shake.

_Every centimeter only added to the agony, but she had to free herself. So she pushed, and she screamed, and the harder she pushed the louder she screamed._

The fingers started to curl.

_A single nail was driven through both her feet, pinning them both to the wood. She pushed up and up, praying that it worked, praying that the nail wouldn't tear through her skin._

Her feet twitched.

_The spear was driven into her side, the triangular head piercing all the way through. Screaming, she seized the pole and yanked, desperate to get it out of her._

"Ophelia?" Oktavia said. "Are you-"

"She can't do it," Charlotte said.

"Hey, don't be a jerk! She had to free herself all on her own, and then she saved each and everyone one of us! Like you said, you owe her!"

"I'm not being a jerk, I'm just pointing out the truth. She can't do it, none of us can! None of us wants to go back into-"

"No," Ophelia said through clenched teeth.

"What?"

"No," Ophelia repeated. "I am…not going…to let the jackass that did this to us beat me. Not now, not today, not _ever!"_

And with that she thrust her hand forward, gripped the handle, and yanked the door open so hard that the topmost hinges were wrenched loose from the wall, causing it to sag against the ones that were left.

Ophelia took a deep breath. Then she turned to face her stunned companions. "So," she said. "We doing this or not?"

…

The cathedral sanctuary had not changed since she left. The dummies still hung from the ceiling, their staring eyes and red smiles remaining fixed. Ophelia did her best not to look at them as she led the way through the pews. However, whatever it was that was causing them to turn in her direction was still there. She could hear the ropes creaking as she passed.

"Holy crap," Oktavia whispered. She was riding on Charlotte's back now, and unlike Ophelia, she didn't even try to keep from staring. "I don't know which of us was the most painful, but yours is definitely the most creepy."

"Yeah, I don't rush to disagree," Charlotte said. "Paging Dr. Freud."

"What do you suppose it means?" Candeloro said.

"Probably that Ophelia got abused by a priest and committed suicide in her previous life or something."

Ophelia paused, bringing the whole procession to a halt. Then she slowly turned to glower at the pink-haired girl.

To her credit, Charlotte seemed to immediately realize how inappropriate her comment had been. Her face turned the same color as her hair, and she shamefully looked away.

"Sorry," she mumbled. "That was out of line."

Ophelia slowly breathed out. Then without another word, she turned her attention forward again and started moving.

The cross was still there, the nails still littering the floor. Ignoring it, she instead headed for the stained-glass window that covered the wall behind it.

"So, what now?" Candeloro said. "Do we look for a door?"

"That's assuming that there is one," Charlotte said. "It wasn't like this place was intended to be an actual church. Maybe there's only one exit."

"How does that make sense though? Whoever brought us here had to leave somehow."

"Unless we really are in Hell. Then the Devil just had to wave his hand and poof! Here we are."

"Not looking for a door," Ophelia muttered.

The others turned to her. "We're not?" Charlotte said. "Then what are we looking for?"

"Any way out." Ophelia looked up at the stained-glass window, at the glass mural of the hanging man and the candle-headed monster. She lifted up her spear. "Stand back."

"Ophelia, wait," Candeloro said, sounding alarmed. "That's not a-"

Ophelia thrust the weighted end into the window.

Given that stained-glass is actually made up of several pieces of glass fused together, Ophelia's strike ought to have only smashed the section she struck while leaving the rest of the whole intact. But whether by some strange aspect of its construction, another weird trick, or just plain dumb luck, as soon as the heavy ball hit the glass, all the seams holding the window together suddenly came loose, and Ophelia found herself directly beneath a cascade of glass pieces falling down on her.

"Ophelia!" Oktavia screamed, but Ophelia was already moving. Before the first piece came close to striking the floor she had already dove out of the wave, heading for the stairs. "Move!" she shouted, grabbing Charlotte and Candeloro by the arms (or ribbons) and hauling them with her, taking all four of them into a rough tumble down the stairs and practically into the first row of pews.

Behind them, the glass shattered on the floor in a thunderous cacophony. It was like a hailstorm, so loud that the sound of it hurt almost as much as actually being hit by the falling pieces would have. Ophelia winced and slapped her hands over her ears, but the improvement was minimal.

Fortunately it was over in seconds. Rubbing her sore ears, Ophelia slowly straightened up and looked back to survey her handiwork.

The entire window had been brought down and now lay in jagged pieces all over the podium. Beyond was a dark, open void, through which Ophelia could several large shapes that looked like buildings.

"Wow," Oktavia said. The mermaid had landed in something of an awkward heap on top of Charlotte, who in turn looked like she had hit her head and was now holding it and groaning. As for Oktavia, she had propped herself up and was also staring back at where the window used to be. "I think it worked.

"Get off of me," Charlotte muttered.

The four girls slowly and laboriously straightened themselves out. "Ow," Candeloro whispered as she rubbed a spot on her knee that had banged against a pew.

"Jeez, Ophelia," Charlotte grumbled, rolling her neck back and forth. "Give us more of a warning next time."

"My bad. But hey!" Ophelia indicated the big, open space. "It worked!"

"It sure did," Charlotte admitted. "But how do we get there now? We don't have any shoes, and all that broken glass'll rip our feet apart."

"Way ahead of yah," Ophelia said. She knelt down next to one of the pews and gripped its side. "Get the other end, okay?"

Charlotte looked at her like she had lost her mind. "You can't be serious."

"Look, whatever we are, we're a lot stronger than we look. I got myself off that cross through pure, brute strength. Now give me a hand here. Candeloro? Get the middle."

Charlotte looked entirely unconvinced, but she sighed and acquiesced. After a moment Candeloro did too. "I don't know about this," she said. "I mean, it's not like my…arms have muscle."

"They're not even supposed to move at all," Ophelia said. "I don't think they're meant to make sense." Candeloro conceded the point.

"Can I help?" Oktavia said.

"How?"

The mermaid crawled on her elbows and rolled beneath the pew. She then planted her palms against its underside like she meant to bench-press it. "Like this!"

"Huh," Ophelia said. "Okay, that helps. Ready, guys? One, two, three, _lift!"_

Doing their best to ignoring the hanging dummies over their heads, the four of them shoved up on the pew. To their delight, the restraints that bolted it to the floor started groaning immediately. "That's right!" Ophelia called. "Keep pushing, keep pushing, get this mother up and…"

The pew buckled, and then with a ripping sound it tore free from the ground.

"…done!"

They held the pew up high, grinning in triumph.

"We did it!" Charlotte crowed. "All right, finally something's starting to go our way."

Ophelia grinned. She opened her mouth to say something encouraging, but then a long, creaking groan sounded from above, sending chills down her back. Her eyes involuntarily went upward, to where the congregation of dummies hung limp.

The ropes holding the dummies in place suddenly and simultaneously snapped, plummeting them down on the girls' heads. All four of them shrieked as the limp, straw bodies fell onto them, nooses and all. They dropped the pew in shock, and Oktavia barely managed to roll out of the way before it fell on her. Unfortunately, that caused her to move right into the path of one of the dummies, which landed directly on top of her, face-to-face. She screamed again and hastily shoved it off.

As for Ophelia, one of the dummies had ended up sprawled right over her head, legs down her back while the head lolled in front of her face, noose swinging back and forth like a macabre necktie. "Ah!" she cried as she flailed about. "Get it off, get it off!"

The dummy continued to grin its upside-down grin at her as she continued to panic. Finally she managed to regain enough wherewithal to seize the dummy's body with her hands and throw it away.

Finally free, Ophelia slumped over, hands on her knees as she panted. "Okay," she muttered. "Get a grip, get a grip."

"Ophelia!"

Ophelia looked over to Candeloro, who was frantically waving her ribbons in the direction she had thrown the dummy. She looked, and then felt her insides clench up.

The dummy was on fire, its middle burning freely while the flames spread to the rest of its body. Apparently, landing directly on top of her head had caused it to ignite. What was more, it was currently sprawled over a wooden pew with dozens of other dummies of straw and dry rope lying all around it.

"Oh, hell no!" Ophelia shouted. She sprinted over to the dummy and grabbed it. Fortunately, her immunity to flames remained. Hoisting it up, she hurled it against the stone wall. It tumbled to the ground and lay in a burning heap, now safely away from anything flammable.

Ophelia hastily swatted and stomped away any fires that remained. "Stupid, creepy dummies scaring the shit of me and almost burning the place down," she muttered. "I swear to _God_ as soon as I find out who set all this up, I'm setting their ass on fire."

Then, without really consciously deciding to, she threw her head back and screamed at the ceiling. "Yeah, you hear that, you sick bastard? I don't care who you are or what you're getting out of all this, as soon as I find you I'm nailing _your_ sadistic ass to that cross and setting _you_ on fire! And I might just fix those ugly hand clamps and shove them onto your fingers! Maybe ram you with a fucking eighteen wheeler while I'm at it! What'll you do then, huh? Answer me!"

There was no answer. Of course.

Feeling drained, Ophelia slumped down again. "Well, at least they got the message," she mumbled as she wiped her eyes with the back of her wrist.

Breathing out a ragged sigh, she straightened up and looked at her staring companions. She had to laugh at how concerned they looked. "Okay," she said. "Crisis over. Let's get out here."

"Ophelia, are you okay?" Candeloro said.

"No, she isn't," Charlotte said bitterly. "None of us are."

"Yeah, but she probably meant when graded on a curve," Oktavia said. "I mean, there's everybody else's okay, and then there's our incredibly screwed up okay."

Ignoring them, Ophelia walked back to the pew they had pulled free. She seized any dummies that had fallen over it and hurled them over her shoulder. Judging by the sound of their thuds, she had thrown them clear across the room.

Picking up one end, she said, "So, you guys gonna help or do I have to keep doing all the work here?"

Charlotte sighed but picked up her end. Candeloro helped pick Oktavia off the floor while the other two girls carried the pew up the steps. They then threw it over the sea of broken glass toward the window.

"Okay," Ophelia said, hopping onto the pew with her spear in hand. She started toward the opening. "We're almost out of here. We just need to…Oh, holy shit."

Fortunately, the window did in fact lead to the outside world instead of just another room of the screwed up prison they had found themselves in. Unfortunately, it seemed that the craziness was not limited to that building.

They were in some kind of city; that much was evident. However, it was as dead of a city as could be imagined. The buildings were all stark, lifeless structures, bereft of ornaments or plant life. Even windows were a rarity, with the one she had destroyed evidently being some kind of rarity, with the others staring out at the bleak world like the eye sockets of skulls. It was dark, with no sun or moon overhead and no city lights to provide illumination. A thick, grey mist swirled down beneath the window that Ophelia was standing in, obscuring the ground.

All of that was unsettling enough, but the thing that truly grabbed Ophelia's attention was the fact that the entire city was upside-down. The best she could tell, the buildings were all hanging from the underside of a sheer rock shelf, their pointed tops facing downward just above the mists, with the tallest (or longest) descending into the fog.

Ophelia craned her neck to look as far down as she dared. Swallowing, she backed away from the ledge.

"What is it?" Charlotte said.

"Uh, we have a problem," Ophelia responded. "We're…upside-down, I guess."

"What?" Charlotte gingerly made her way across the pew to see for herself. Ophelia backed up as far as she could to give her room.

After a few moments of examination Charlotte said, "Fuck."

"Can someone please explain to us what's going on?" Oktavia said in exasperation.

"Well, the good news is that the window does lead outside," Ophelia said. "The bad news is that we, uh, we seem to be in some kind of creepy, upside-down city."

"Excuse me?"

"She's not lying," Charlotte said. "The whole city is stuck to some kind of…I don't know, stone? Cement? It's some kind of long, flat ceiling, and everything's pointed downward."

It spoke to the sort of day they were having when this ridiculous news was met with a long silence, followed by Candeloro simply saying, "Oh."

Ophelia and Charlotte carefully made their way back. "So, we are definitely in Hell," Charlotte said, her voice a dull monotone.

"You say that so casually," Candeloro said.

"A little over an hour ago, I was getting force-fed and then cooked alive," Charlotte said. "What's the point of raising a fuss?"

"I dunno, if this is Hell, it ain't as advertised," Ophelia said. She was doing her best to sound brave, but even she was starting to accept the possibility of their damnation. "I mean, where's the pits of fire…um…" Okay, bad example. "Where's the red little guys with the spears and-" Then she glanced at the spear in her hand and remembered the bright red flame on her head and faltered. "Uh…"

Charlotte smiled grimly. "See?"

"Well, it might be somewhere else," was all Ophelia could think to say.

Candeloro sighed. "Well, wherever we are, it's clear that we can't stay here. Did you see a way down?"

Right. Escape. Ophelia had to focus on that. If she did, then she didn't have to think about being in Hell. "N-No," she said. "It was a sheer drop."

"Well, I suppose we can…" Then Candeloro glanced down. "Oh. Um, are you okay?"

Ophelia looked where she was looking. Oktavia was still on the floor, her back to the side of one of the pews. One hand was bunched up into a fist, and the other was grasping it tight, holding it to her chest. She rocked back and forth, her eyes wide but staring at nothing.

"No way out," she whispered. "No way out, no way out. We're in Hell, and there's no way out."

"Oktavia," Candeloro said gently, laying a ribbon on her shoulder. "Look at me."

Oktavia stopped rocking, but she continued to look straight ahead.

"Look at me," Candeloro said again, more insistently this time.

Grimacing, the mermaid glanced in her direction.

"We're getting out," Candeloro told her. "There is a way out, and we will find it. I promise."

Swallowing, Oktavia said, "B-But what if we don't? I don't want to be in Hell, I don't-"

She suddenly threw her arms around Candeloro and buried her face into her shoulder as she cried.

Ophelia shot an awkward glance over to Charlotte, who returned it and sighed. They stood and waited for Oktavia to calm down before proceeding.

"So," Charlotte said once the mermaid had drawn away from Candeloro. "What's our next move?"

Ophelia breathed out. "Well, we find a way down, I guess."

"But we don't know what's down there," Charlotte objected. "What if it's a swamp, or some kind of demon nest?"

"You want to stay here?" Ophelia demanded.

After a moment Charlotte shook her head.

"Yeah. Okay." Ophelia closed her eyes and thought as hard as she could. "Okay, we…might have to go back into the other rooms, see if we can find something we can use for rope. Maybe we can untie those ribbons in Candeloro's room or…" She opened her eyes. "Why are you laughing?"

Candeloro had covered her mouth with her ribbons, but the way her shoulders were shaking gave away her giggling. "Ophelia," she said with a chuckle. "Rope is not something we have any lack of."

Ophelia blinked. Then she looked around.

All about them were the dummies, lying lifelessly where they had fallen. Some were on the pews, some were on the floor, all of them still smiling red. And all of them still had a knotted noose around their necks. Dozens, maybe hundreds of nooses.

"Oh!" Ophelia said, brightening. "Well, finally this freak show does something useful!" She snatched up her spear. "All right, let's get to work!"

She, Candeloro, and Charlotte spent the next several minutes collecting as many of the nooses as they could, pulling off the dummies' heads one by one to get to them. At first it still sent shivers down her back to touch them, but around fourteenth or fifteen they ceased to have any effect. They were just objects that needed to be removed, that was all.

Soon the room was filled with disembodied heads and headless bodies, and the girls had a nice pile of hangman's nooses at the front of the sanctuary. "This is so freaking morbid," Charlotte said as she surveyed their bounty.

"Well, if we are in Hell, then I guess it fits," Ophelia said. "Let's get to work."

The second part of their task took much longer, even with Oktavia now joining in. Thanks to them being much stronger than they looked, it wasn't as difficult to unknot the noose loops and straighten out the ropes, but there were so many of them. And when they were done with that, they had to tie them all together again.

"I'm hungry," Oktavia said after about half-an-hour of work.

"We all are," Candeloro said, her face twisted into a look of frustration. With no fingers to work with she was having the hardest time of it, but she persevered.

"I'm not," Charlotte said flatly.

Ophelia said nothing, but the truth was she was _famished._ Now that the fear, anger, and determination had subsided in the face of their grueling task, she was all too aware of just how empty her stomach was.

She thought of all those cakes, cookies, and other treats in Charlotte's hallway of weird. And hey, maybe that chute was still dispensing treats. Maybe a nibble wouldn't hurt.

_No. It's not worth it._

But she was so hungry though!

_It's a trick. Just let it go._

They had smelled so good! Ophelia's mouth was starting to water as she remembered the sweet scent of those cakes, cookies, and frosting, mixed with the aroma of-

She glanced over to Charlotte, who was methodically undoing a noose.

-cooking meat.

And just like that, Ophelia wasn't so hungry anymore. Shuddering, she threw herself back into her task.

With no clock none of them really knew how long it took to finish their project, but it felt like hours. Still, at the end of it all, they had managed to undo every single noose and tie all the ropes end to end.

"Okay, now what?" Charlotte said, pulling on a knot to test it.

"Now we go down," Ophelia said. She took one end of their makeshift escape rope and tied it snugly around the base of the cross. Like the pews, it had been bolted into the floor, so it should support their weight without a problem. Besides, it was time for it to make up for how much torment it had put her through.

The four of them made their way across the pew toward the window, Ophelia in the lead and holding the rope, Charlotte in the middle, and Oktavia riding on Candeloro's back. They reached the edge.

Ophelia again peered down into the mists. It was further than she remembered. Pursing her lips, she tossed the rope over. It fell all the way out of sight and then some. Hopefully the ground wasn't far.

Then Oktavia's face went pale. She took one look at the drop and flinched back. "No," she said. "No, I can't do it."

"Take it easy, Oktavia," Charlotte said.

"No, you don't understand. It's too far. I can't do it." The mermaid sounded like she was going to start crying again.

Ophelia was having some second thoughts of her own, but something about Oktavia's blatant cowardice caused her to snap. "Oh, you wanna stay here instead?" she hissed. "Fine. We'll leave, and you can just hang around with all those dummies for company until you starve. Is that what you want?"

"Ophelia, calm down," Candeloro said. "She's just scared."

"Is she? Well, guess what? I am too! We all are! But we have come too far and suffered too much to just give up now! So buck up and stop whimpering, okay?"

Oktavia looked up to glare at her with wet, angry eyes. "You can be a real jerk, you know that?"

"All right, everyone chill!" Charlotte snapped. "We're all scared, we're all angry, but stop tearing into each other, all right? We're all on the same side here!"

"You'll be all right," Candeloro said encouraging to the mermaid on her back. "Just ride on my back, close your eyes, and hold on tight. I can literally wrap my entire arm around the rope, so there's no chance of me losing my grip."

Oktavia's teeth were chattering. "It's not that. I just… _can't."_

"You can, and you will," Ophelia said. Then she tucked her spear under her arm, gave the rope a pull, and then swung herself out of the window.

"What are you doing?" Charlotte said in alarm.

Ophelia planted her bare feet on the side of the building and leaned back, her fingers clutching the rope in a death grip. Despite her words she also was all too aware of the sheer drop beneath her and was doing everything she could not to look down. "What does it look like?" she called back. "I'm going first!"

"Ophelia, maybe you'd better not-"

"Oh, shut it," Ophelia said, though it came out sounding more nervous than angry. "Someone has to, and this was my idea anyway."

There was a pause, and then Charlotte said, "Well, for God's sake, keep your head away from the rope. You don't want to burn it off!"

"I got it, I got it." Ophelia took a deep breath. "Okay, here we go."

Slowly but surely she climbed down, using her feet and hands. It was cold, and her nakedness made it worse, but fortunately it wasn't cold enough to numb her fingers. Focusing on her companions' worried faces so as to keep from looking down she continued to descend.

 _Okay,_ she thought. _So far so good. One step at a time, one step at a time, just keep it moving._

Then her foot slipped.

There was a moment of sheer terror as the surprise almost made her lose her grip. Her spear fell loose from her armpit and tumbled down below. "Ophelia!" Candeloro cried. Ophelia's fingers clamped down on the rope in a vicelike grip and she shoved her feet back into place, regaining her balance.

For several seconds she just hung there, breathing heavily with her eyes closed. After a bit Charlotte called down, "Are you all right?"

Ophelia swallowed. "Y-Yeah," she said. "Um, lost my spear though."

Even with the distance between them she heard Charlotte's sigh. "Well, it needed to get to the bottom anyway. Just pick it up when you do too."

"Okay." Ophelia opened her eyes and steadied her breathing. "Okay. Good idea."

Then she continued her descent.

After several more seconds Candeloro said, "Be careful, you're reaching the end of the building."

Ophelia spared a glance downward. Sure enough the building they had been trapped in was one of the shorter ones, and there was now a big, empty space between its end and the mist. Ophelia's insides clenched up, but she had gotten too far to chicken out now.

"Okay, time for the hard part," she mumbled under her breath. She then moved one leg from the wall to one of the knots beneath her, and then the other one. Then she started to descend again, moving beyond the building and into the open space.

Further and further down she went. As she did, she saw that the building actually wasn't that short at all, but instead had a pointed marble roof (or bottom, or however such things were judged in that insane upside-down world) that sloped inward. It was weirdly shaped though, molded in waves that looked like the billowing folds of a dress. Furrowing her brow, Ophelia shook her head and kept on. Then her eyes fell upon something that froze her in place.

They _were_ the billowing folds of a dress. She now saw a marble hand that was larger than she was, one covered with a spiky armored gauntlet and extending from a long sleeve.

Swallowing, Ophelia glanced to either side of this new structure. Two more sleeved arms rested on both sides, each ending in another hand wearing a metal glove. Presumably a fourth one was on the other side, out of sight.

Another statue? Had they left someone behind, someone trapped beneath the floor? But if so, why was this one on the outside and so much bigger than the other four?

Ophelia was getting a really bad feeling about this. She considered climbing back up and reporting her find. If they had missed someone, then that person needed to be saved _now!_

She looked up at the rope's length. It was further than she had thought, and she really didn't want to make that climb twice. But if someone was still being tortured, than what choice did she have?

Well, might as well go down a bit further to see if she could learn more. Taking a deep breath, Ophelia continued her way down. As she did so, more and more of the statue came into view, revealing a high, elaborate collar not too dissimilar to the one the mermaid-knight monster had been wearing.

And then she saw the statue's head.

It was a glass ball, like a snowglobe, only a snowglobe bigger than most houses. And hovering in it was a shimmering light, like the eye of some gigantic demon. It was pulsing through several different colors, from red to blue to yellow to pink.

Ophelia's jaw dropped open. She wasn't really sure what she had been expecting, but it sure as hell hadn't been that.

Then suddenly the light contracted and focused on her, and Ophelia found herself bathed in a spotlight. She let out a small gasp of surprise and jerked back.

And then it happened.

Maybe the rope was just too frail to fully support her weight. Maybe in the long, grueling process of tying all those ends together one of them had half-assed one of the knots, making it weaker than the others. Maybe her sudden movement had caused it to come loose. Or maybe (and this was the most likely) it was one last cruel trick on the part of their mysterious tormentor, a final "Fuck you" on their way out.

But whatever the cause, the knot directly above her chose that moment to slip.

Ophelia felt the rope start to slide. She panicked, her body going stiff. Then she lunged up for the length of rope above her head before the one she was holding onto came free.

Her hands closed around the length, the rope jerked.

And then the knot above that came loose as well.

Ophelia screamed as she fell, still holding onto the rope as if that would save her. And all the while, the burning, demonic eye's gaze followed her all the way down.


	16. Together Forever, Part 6

Oktavia's scream was higher in pitch than Ophelia's, and she fell fully off of Candeloro's back onto the pew where she lay sobbing. Charlotte gasped sharply, her hands snapping up to cover her mouth.

As for Candeloro, she didn't cry out; she didn't move at all. In fact, she couldn't. She just stood frozen in place, staring down as the light of Ophelia's flame fell into the mist and disappeared. The long, shrill wail of her terrified shriek continued on though, growing fainter and fainter.

And then it cut off.

"No," Candeloro whispered. "No, no, no."

"You _see?"_ Oktavia suddenly cried out. "You _see?_ You see why it was a stupid idea? Now she's gone, she's _dead!_ Ophelia is _dead!"_

Charlotte stammered a bit before getting out, "B-But we can't die. So, uh, so maybe, maybe she's fine. You know, I didn't die from getting cooked, so maybe-"

" _NO!_ She's gone, she's dead, and we're all going to die here!" Oktavia collapsed against the pew, banging her fist against the velvet. "We're all going to die here!"

As for Candeloro, she continued to stare numbly down into the mists, at the spot where Ophelia had disappeared. This couldn't be the end. This couldn't be it for them. Ophelia couldn't just be gone like that.

She glanced over to Charlotte, who was looking somehow even more pale than before. Maybe she was right. Maybe Ophelia could just walk off the effects of her fall. After all, hadn't Candeloro herself recovered from having her stomach crushed in by a speeding car in mere minutes? Hadn't Charlotte regenerated from being cooked alive right before their eyes? Hadn't Ophelia walked off being crucified on that very cross that sat a few short meters away?

Charlotte glanced back at her, and she must have seen the look in her eyes because her own suddenly widened in alarm. "Candeloro?" she said.

Candeloro looked back down again. She took a deep breath.

"Candeloro, no!"

"What are you…" she heard Oktavia said. "Oh, holy crap! What are you doing?"

One of Candeloro's feet was already stepping out over the drop. Strange, she didn't remember making the conscious decision to do so. Oh well, she was committed then.

She tried to continue walking forward, but Charlotte had already grabbed her by the shoulders. "Oh, no you don't!" Charlotte growled as she bodily wrestled Candeloro away from the window. Candeloro tried to resist, but their footing was unsteady, and the two ended up falling backward, wrapped up in each other's limbs.

"Guys?" Oktavia said as the two struggled against one another. "Guys, stop! Stop it now!"

Candeloro barely heard her. She pushed and bucked against Charlotte, trying to throw her off, trying to get to the window. It was the only way out, and she was not going to spend another minute in that cruel, sadistic place. She had to escape!

"Get a _grip,_ Candeloro!" Charlotte snarled, pinning Candeloro's ribbons down. "This won't help anyone!"

Candeloro didn't say anything. She just kept pushing, her legs thrashing about as she fought back.

Then her left foot came down, not on the pew, but on the glass-covered ground, and one of the shards stabbed into her ankle.

Candeloro hissed in pain, her whole body arching. But the hot sting was enough to pull her from her madness, and she stopped fighting.

"So, are you _sane_ now?" Charlotte demanded. "Are you going to listen?"

Candeloro nodded numbly.

"Good! Because I swear to God, if you throw yourself out that window, I will…" Charlotte's face twisted up as she tried to think of a sufficient threat. "I'll kill myself too! And when I arrive at whatever new circle of Hell you ended up, I'll find you and beat the snot out of you! So get a freaking grip already!"

"Okay," Candeloro said. Then her eyes filled with tears, and she started crying.

The next thing she knew, Charlotte had pulled her up and hugged her tightly. She was crying as well, sobbing into Candeloro's shoulder. The two of them held each other as they sobbed, hungrily taking whatever meager comfort they could from the contact.

Sniffing, Candeloro looked up to see Oktavia sitting by herself, her face in her hands. Well, that wouldn't do. She reached out with one ribbon, wrapped it around the mermaid's forearm, and pulled her into their embrace.

Then they heard it.

It was a deep, resonant thumping sound, fast and strong. Charlotte could feel it in the pit of her stomach, pounding away like the excited heartbeat of some great creature.

_Thrum-thrum-thrum-thrum_

No, no wait. It wasn't a thumping sound at all. It was the sound of chopping, like massive blade spinning around and around, ready to devour whatever was dropping into its maw.

_Thrum-thrum-thrum-thrum_

Over it was a shrill whine, like the scream of a buzzsaw. It made Candeloro teeth hurt.

_Thrum-thrum-thrum-thrum_

The noise was coming from outside the window, and it was getting louder. The release each other and turned, their eyes wide with apprehension.

Then white light flooded the sanctuary. Candeloro screamed and covered her face, convinced that their mysterious tormentors had finally decided to reveal themselves.

"Holy crap!" she heard Oktavia gasp. Raising her head, she saw that the light was coming from a large, dark shape hovering just outside the window, shining in like the lights of a demon's eyes.

But then the shape turned, and the light moved just enough that she was able to get a better look at what had found them.

It was a spaceship.

Well, no, not a spaceship, as they weren't in space, at least to the best of their knowledge. But it was definitely a strange sort of aircraft. It was tall and wedge-shaped with open sides, like the cockpit of a helicopter with no rotor or tail that had been stretched upward. Attached to either side was a round engine that looked like an industrial-sized fan. They sat on swivels, allowing them to turn this way and that, giving the craft full range of motion. The light was coming from the craft's headlights.

And on board were people.

She couldn't make out their features, but they at least seemed humanoid. Over the clamor of the craft's engines she could heard the babble of voices.

The craft turned fully to one side, allowing one of the figures to step onto the windowsill and enter the sanctuary. It was a short, portly Hispanic girl about their age with round cheeks and short, straight hair. She was wearing a blue and silver uniform of some kind, with a silver five-sided badge over her right breast.

The girl held up hands. "It's okay!" she shouted over the racket. "We're here to help you!"

Candeloro's mouth fell open. No, no way. No chance was this for real. Rescuers didn't just show up out of nowhere. This had to be some kind of trick, just another sadistic mind game.

Someone on board the craft shouted a question. "Three of them!" the blue-and-silver clad girl shouted back. "All witches."

Wait, what?

Another question was asked. Candeloro could barely understand it, but she did catch a word that sound like Al Purges Not. "Looks like!" was the answer. The girl turned back to the girls and held out her hand. "Come on," she said. "I promise we're here to help. Let's get us out of here."

Screw it. They were doomed anyway. Candeloro shakily stood up and extended a ribbon. The girl didn't even flinch at the strangeness.

"That's right," the girl said encouragingly, taking the offered ribbon in her hand. Then she tilted her head at Charlotte and Oktavia. "Okay, I'll need some help here!" she called back. "One of them's a mermaid. No legs."

Three more girls disembarked the craft and made their way to the air, the broken glass crunching under their boots. Charlotte tensed up as they neared, instinctively raising her fists like a boxer.

"Don't worry, it's okay," said one of the girls. She held up her own hands. They were all ball-jointed, like a doll's. "See! Weird, huh. I'm just like you."

Charlotte frowned at her in suspicion.

"Believe me, I know what it's like. Same thing happened to me," said the ball-jointed girl. "That's why we're here. To help anyone else who gets stuck here. But we are on your side. Will you come with us?"

Charlotte swallowed. She exchanged a look with Oktavia, and then the two looked over to Candeloro.

After a moment Candeloro slowly nodded.

Charlotte breathed out. She hesitantly relaxed and took the girl's ball-jointed hand. "That's it," the girl said as she helped her up. "You're safe now, it's over."

The other two formed a sling with their arms and helped Oktavia into it. The blue-haired mermaid flinched a bit at the touch and curled into a ball, but she didn't fight.

"All right, come on," said the girl holding onto Candeloro's ribbon. "Let's get you guys out of here."

Then Candeloro remembered. "Wait!" she said. "Our friend! She fell out the window! She was trying to climb out when the rope broke, and she fell!"

"We know, we know," the girl said. "Don't worry, we saw. That's how we knew you were here."

"Is she all right?" Candeloro said, hardly daring to hope.

"She will be. Someone's already picking her up right now. She's safe too, you all are. Now come on. You don't have to be afraid."

Well, that was as good a reassurance as any, even if they still didn't know what was going on. Candeloro, Charlotte, and Oktavia were all led (or carried onto the craft. There, more young girls wearing the same blue-and-silver uniforms were waiting.

They helped the trio on board. Once they were fully on board the craft, Candeloro was handed a folded-up pair of grey sweatpants and a loose-fitting sweater. "Here you go," she was told. "Let's get you guys dressed at least."

That small kindness made a lump form in Candeloro's throat. She pulled on the clothing, with their rescuers helping her with the sleeves.

Once she was dressed, she led to a set of seats in the back. Oktavia was already being strapped into one. The mermaid was wearing a sweater identical to the one Candeloro had been given. So was Charlotte, though her sweatpants were riding a little low, courtesy of her tail.

Candeloro gratefully sat down. Their rescuers helped strap her in. When they were done, she was handed a water bottle and a plastic Tupperware container. She opened it to find three small bread rolls, some apple slices, and some kind of chocolate protein bar, all sitting in their little alcoves.

"That's just to take the edge off," one of the girls said. "You'll get a real meal once we get back."

Just? A real meal? This was as good as any feast in Candeloro's eyes. She almost wept from the generosity.

"All right, let's go!"

The craft's engines roared, and it started to pull away from that horrid building. Candeloro watched it go, hardly daring to believe that they were actually being rescued. She half expected some sadistic twist to happen, to have this all to be revealed to be another sick joke.

"How did you know we were here?" Charlotte said over the sound of the engines. "Did you see Ophelia fall?"

"Yeah, but we were already heading your way," said one of their rescuers. She pointed at the building. "I mean, it was sort of noticeable."

Frowning, Candeloro looked to see what she meant. The building pulled further and further away, giving her a clear view. The bulk of it was circular as expected, with four axe blade-shaped wings extending out from the sides, presumably where their personal torture chambers were contained. However, it extended down further than they had explored. The lower parts seemed more ornamental than functional though, almost as if-

At her side, Oktavia let out a yelp of surprise. Candeloro felt much the same way.

"What is that?" Charlotte cried, thrusting a finger at the massive, upside-down statue hanging from the bottom of the building. The thing's eye, enclosed within a giant glass ball, was following them as they left.

"That's how we knew to look here," came the response. "I'm pretty sure that was your Walpurgisnacht. It's rare to see one that big. Usually they're just two people, sometimes three."

"Our _what?"_

"That's what you guys used to be before coming here."

" _What?"_ Charlotte said. "Excuse me?"

The girl shook her head. "Too much to explain now! We'll tell you everything as soon as we get back to base!"

Charlotte stared at her like she was about to punch the information out of her, but instead she just sat back with a haunted look in her eyes. Oktavia let out a whimper and closed her eyes, her fingers tightly clutching the armrests.

As for Candeloro, she just kept staring at the "Walpurgisnacht," whatever that was. The eye kept following them as they pulled further and further away.

Then, before they were completely out of sight, the light winked out, as if the monster was satisfied that they were leaving.

Candeloro leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes as well. It was over. They were really leaving. It was over.

…

_If ever Ophelia needed confirmation that she was dead, than this certainly fit the bill._

_The black void of nothingness surrounds her, envelops her, darker than night, darker than space. There are no lights, no stars, just an endless field of black. She stands on nothing, but still she stands, trapped in oblivion._

_But she is not really alone. There is another girl, striding towards her across the field of nothing. The girl is about her age and build, with flowing red hair tied back in a ponytail. She is wearing the oddest and most extravagant outfit, a scarlet get-up that is not quite a dress, not quite a tunic, and not quite a uniform, but somehow combines elements of all three. A brooch containing a glowing red stone sits in the center of her breast, and in her hands is Ophelia's spear._

_Ophelia suspiciously eyes the girl. She seems so familiar, and yet Ophelia cannot recall her name. It is on the tip of her tongue, but for some reason she just can't seem to get it out._

_Then the girl raises her head. Ophelia looks into her bright scarlet eyes, sees her sly grin, and she understands._

_The girl looks Ophelia up and down. Her smile turns a little sad, and she shakes her head. "Hey," she says, her voice a perfect match for Ophelia's. "It's up to you now. Take care of 'em for me, will yah?"_

_Then she reaches up and takes the jeweled brooch from her chest. She looks wistfully at it for a moment, her thumb stroking the gem. Then she sighs and places the brooch onto Ophelia's chest. Though Ophelia is wearing nothing, it still sticks._

_Then the girl twirls the spear around like a dancer's baton. She catches it with both hands and holds it out to Ophelia. Ophelia hesitates, and then takes it._

" _Good luck," the girl says, flicking off a cocky salute. She turns to walk away._

_Ophelia is suddenly struck by a rush of fear. "Wait!" she cries. "Who are you?"_

_The girl ignores her and keeps on walking._

" _Come on, tell me your name at least! What's your name?"_

_Instead of responding, the girl simply waves at her from over her shoulder. Her body is starting to fade._

" _Don't leave!" Ophelia reaches out to her. "You can't leave me alone, I still don't know-"_

The darkness faded, and Ophelia opened her eyes.

"-your name."

There was nobody there. Ophelia stared at her outstretched arm. Then with a sigh, she slowly lowered it and looked around

Ophelia was lying in a bed in a pale yellow room, the white covers pulled up to just under her chest. The back of the bed was raised so that she was sitting up, and some kind of foam brace was around her shoulders and neck, holding it in place.

Frowning, Ophelia wriggled out of the brace and lifted the thin blanket to check herself. Someone had cleaned and dressed her in a grey tee shirt and grey sweatpants. An IV needle was taped to her arm. All in all, it wasn't the best way to wake up, but it was loads better than where she was when she-

_The rope parted, and Ophelia fell screaming, the monstrous eye watching her the whole way._

-had been when everything went black. Ophelia shuddered.

Then a thought occurred to her. There was no way she had survived that fall. Maybe that twisted world had been some kind of purgatory, a place to suffer while her real body had been in some kind of coma. Maybe she was been lying unconscious in this hospital while her soul and mind had wandered in a Hell of its own making, and dying in that world had caused her to wake up in this one, the real one.

Praying that that was true, Ophelia reached up with one hand toward her head, praying that her fingers would touch normal human hair, or at least smooth skin.

They didn't. The warmth of the flames surrounded her fingers.

"She's awake!"

The curtains flew open, and Ophelia saw Candeloro standing there, ribbons and all. The blonde girl was dressed in the same shirt and sweatpants combo that Ophelia was. A look of happy relief was all over her face.

"It's true, you did wake up!" Candeloro said, rushing over to throw her ribbons around Ophelia's shoulders. Ophelia lay frozen for a moment, and then relaxed, dropping her arms to return the hug.

"'Course I did," she said, patting Candeloro on the back. "Takes more than a fifty meter drop to put down Ophelia!"

"You sure had us worried though," Charlotte said as she also appeared. Candeloro moved away, letting Charlotte bend over for a hug of her own. "I thought you were a goner."

"Yeah, well. After the whole getting crucified thing, death drops seem kinda tame, you know?" As they parted, Ophelia looked around. "What about the fish? Is Oktavia here?"

"Here," the mermaid said, wheeling into view. She also had on the same shirt as the others, though obviously she had foregone the pants. And she was now sitting in a wheelchair. If anything, the relief at seeing Ophelia all right was even more evident on her face. "God, I'm glad you're okay."

"Aw, you do care!" Ophelia beckoned over to her. "C'mon, wheel that tail over here. I got hugs from everyone but you so far."

Oktavia was more than happy to comply. As Ophelia leaned over to embrace her, Oktavia murmured, "Don't you _dare_ scare me like that again."

"No promises, the way things are going." Ophelia then looked around. "Though speaking of which, I see that we're still in weird world, but in a better part. The hell are we?"

"You're in SSSR recovery ward," said a completely new voice. Ophelia turned to see a new girl, this one wearing blue scrubs. Like the four of them, she seemed to be in her early teens, with pale skin, green eyes, and blonde hair tied up in a bun. Ophelia didn't see anything obviously weird about her, though for all she knew the chick could be covered with feathers under those scrubs.

"Ophelia, right?" the girl said with some kind of European accent. Swedish, maybe. "How do you feel?"

"Uh, better than I should be," Ophelia said, eyeing her with suspicion. "Hey, no offense, but who the hell are you?"

"Her name's Marie. Don't worry, she's not with the ones that, you know, tortured us," Charlotte assured her.

"In fact, they rescued us," Candeloro said. She sighed. "Right after you fell, in fact."

"Oh. Well, lousy timing then." Ophelia frowned. "So, wait, who in the hell were the ones that did all that to us?"

"That's…a little hard to explain," Marie admitted.

"Try me."

Before the girl could give her an answer, Oktavia jumped in with, "Yeah, believe it or not, but there was never a 'them' after all."

"Huh?"

Candeloro's face became troubled. "Um, well, we're still processing it ourselves, but the best I can tell, I was right after all."

That made Ophelia's stomach twist up. "So, wait, we really are in…" She swallowed. "You know. Hell?"

"Not exactly," Marie said.

"Oh yeah? Then what else is it, because it sure as hell ain't Heaven."

Marie sighed. "It's neither. We're in a sort of purgatory, a place specially made for people like us."

Ophelia moved her hand through her flames. "You mean freaks."

"In…a sense."

"And…and those statues? Of the monsters? Those were-"

"Us," Charlotte said flatly. "Yup. Here's the abridged version: we had a job where we fought and killed monsters. Until we got turned into monsters. Then other monster hunters killed us, and we wound up here."

Ophelia stared at her. "You're shitting me."

"Hey, is that any weirder than anything else we've seen?"

To that point, Ophelia had to concede. "Okay, and that fifth statue? The big on hanging on the bottom of the building, with the four arms and the glowing snowglobe eye?"

"That was us," Candeloro said, her voice shaky. "Um, apparently, all of our, our monsters I guess, um, they all fused together and became _that._ And when the monster hunters destroyed it, that's when we all got sent here."

"It's called a Walpurgisnacht," Marie said. "They're pretty rare to be honest, and yours is one of the bigger ones we've in a while."

"Oh," was all Ophelia could think of to say.

Marie shook her head. "Listen, I'm not really supposed to be talking about that. I'm just here to see if you're okay. Someone will explain everything to you, I promise."

Ophelia lay back, wondering how to react to that. She still had a million questions, but for now, she was wondering how exactly she was supposed to feel about the confirmation that yes, she really was dead, that somewhere, in another world, there was a grave set aside for a young girl with long red hair and red eyes. Or not. Did anyone even know that the monster they had killed was her, was the four of them? Did anyone know what had happened?

Curiously, she didn't feel much of anything. In fact, she was disturbingly okay with the news. _That_ probably wasn't good. Odds were, it was going to hit her at the worst time possible and leave her a sobbing wreck. Either way, she wasn't looking forward to it.

"Can you tell us one thing though?" Candeloro said. "All…all that horror we woke up to…If this isn't Hell, why were we being tortured?"

"Yeah, what was up with all that freaky symbolism?" Charlotte added.

Marie sighed again. "Well, that is also a long story, but the condensed version is that you became those monsters through…troublesome circumstances. That place you woke up in was a physical manifestation of those circumstances, all the pain and grief you brought with you being spiritually transformed from emotional anguish to physical."

Ophelia's head jerked up. "Wait, what the hell? What kind of sick, sadistic happened to us to create something like _that?"_

"I don't know. But as everyone who arrives here tends to do so in specific…spots, all those manifestations collect together to form…cities, I guess. We call them spawn sites." Marie pointed to her badge. "We're the Spawn Site Search and Rescue. We patrol places like Dead Drop City and a couple others for any other girls who have just newly arrived. Sometimes we find them in time before things get too bad. Other times…"

"You show up a little late," Ophelia said coldly.

"Sometimes," Marie said with a small nod. "We do what we can, but it happens."

Ophelia leaned back and stared up at the curtains. She said nothing.

"Listen, I'll let them know that you're awake and talking. In the meantime, is there anything I can get you? Food, perhaps?"

Well, there was a conversation that Ophelia had no problem having. "Oh, hell yes," she sighed. "Otherwise I'm liable to eat Oktavia's tail raw."

"Try it," Oktavia said, cocking her fist. "See where that gets you."

"But before you do, what happens now?" Candeloro said before Marie could leave. "I mean, what are you going to do with us?"

"From here, it gets better," Marie told her. "The worst is over. There's a very nice town nearby that will be more than happy to take you in and help you in any way you need."

"So, instead of playing harps on clouds or screaming in the fire and brimstone, we get to spend eternity in a very nice town," Ophelia said. She shook her head. "Groovy. So, what is the name of this very nice town?"

"Freehaven," Marie said, and then she left the four of them alone, closing the curtain behind her as she went.

Ophelia looked around at the other three gathered around her, the other "monsters" with whom she had one been fused to. "Guys," she said, her voice calm. "I'm going to be honest with you. This is kind of freaking me out."

Charlotte let out a snort of laughter. "Gee, yah think? Which part though? The who us being dead, having been monsters, or that we apparently used to be one person, or…"

"All of the above, and then some. Listen, if I start crying uncontrollably later on and yell nonsense or whatever, cut me some slack?"

"But hey, question?" Oktavia said. "We're sticking together, right? Because it's great that we're out of that place, but I really don't want to deal with this alone."

Candeloro laid a ribbon on her shoulder. "Oktavia, I kind of have a feeling that we're stuck together from now on, whether we like it or not."

"Oh. Oh, good. I can live with that."

Ophelia laid her head back and stared up at the ceiling. Despite everything, she had to let out a small chuckle. Live with that. Honestly, she couldn't think of a better way to put it.

…

_Years/days later, in another world…_

A gentle rain fell upon the ruined city, a far cry from the overwhelming storm that had nearly crushed it to the ground. The sky above was finally clearing, letting rays of sunshine warm the heaps of rubble. It was cleansing in a way, a peaceful resolution to the wave of devastation that had descended upon the otherwise tranquil city.

Though the damage was bad, at least it wasn't fatal. In time the city would heal: the wreckage would be cleared away, the roads and buildings rebuilt, and even those who had lost loved ones would find the strength to move on. As horrific as the storm (and the thing that lived within the storm) had been, it could have been so much worse.

Unfortunately, the same could not be said for the two young girls that had saved everyone.

They lay side-by-side in a shallow puddle, looking up at the sky. They were beaten and bloodied, their clothes torn and bodies broken. And yet they were smiling. Because though they knew that their time was up, they had accomplished that which they had set out to do. They had saved their friends and families. In that, at least, they could take pride, though no one would ever know.

Though each breath hurt like sandpaper, Madoka turned her head to smile at her last friend. "This…this is it. It's over for us too."

Homura sadly returned the smile. Then the smile died. "Do you…have any grief seeds?" she asked.

And that was the rub. Though they were hurt, the damage was nothing that they couldn't come back from. Their bodies were far more resilient than that of the normal human being. Given time, their wounds would heal, the bones would knit, and they would be back on their feet with no evidence that they had ever been hurt.

Unfortunately, they didn't have the time. In each of their hands was a small, glowing gem. And their gems were clouded with darkness, as good as a nearly empty hourglass.

Madoka slowly shook her head.

Homura let her head lie back to take one last look at the sky. "'Kay," she said. "I…I have an idea. How about we both become witches? Then…then we can tear up this rotten world together. Until there's no more evil, no more sadness, until there's nothing left. We'll break and smash and pound it into dust. What if we did that? Wouldn't that be great?"

Madoka's face became sad. At any other time she would have been horrified that her sweet, gentle friend would ever suggest such a horrible thing. But after today, after fighting and destroying the Walpurgishnacht with full knowledge of what it really was, after watching her dearest friends succumb to despair and become monsters, after having to be the one to destroy that monster once it was clear that there was no hope left, she at least understood where Homura was coming from.

"I don't want to hurt anyone anymore," she said. "No more witches, not even evil people. But…" She reached over with her other hand and gently laid it over Homura's and Homura's soul gem. "Whatever happens now, wherever this takes us…we will be together. I promise."

Tears slipped down Homura's cheeks to plop into the puddle. "Madoka," she said.

Suddenly Madoka's body arched and she let out a strangled cry of pain. Homura's eyes went wide, and she reached over to her, only to also gasp as a cold, icy spear tore through her. It wasn't anything solid, but rather was like a poisoned knife being thrust into her soul.

A crack had slashed its way down Madoka's soul gem. And then another appeared. And another. Every time the gem cracked, Madoka cried out. The same was happening to Homura.

"Homura!" Madoka wept. "I'm scared!"

Homura wished she could say something to comfort her, but she was scared as well. It was one thing to die. It was another to lose one's very identity, to fight so valiantly to defeat the monster only to replace it.

But what could they do? They were the last ones left, and there was no one that could save them.

The cracks now riddled their gems, and the two girls felt every single one of them. The darkness spread out, swallowing the light, straining against its crystal prison.

And then the gems shattered, setting the darkness free.


End file.
